


Anachronism

by orphan_account



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fem!Fiction, Humor, Matchmaker Sandy, Nightlight can talk!, Romance, Time Travel, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 47,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under different circumstances she might have noticed a handsome face. Instead she noticed only the rapier jabbing itself into the fabric of her hoodie, just half an inch shy of piercing the skin</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Down The Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:**

> ~Written for an Rotg_kink prompt
> 
> found here: http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/1511.html?thread=1367015#cmt1367015
> 
> I took a few liberties with certain elements, but mostly I'm trying to honor the movie/book cannons as closely as I can while still fulfilling the purposes of the story. Please enjoy~

The first thing she remembered was the snow.

It was snowing, and it was cold. Of course, Jack hadn't minded. She was snow, and ice, and winter, and she liked the cold. Cold was home. But this place, this wasn't home. It was a forest, that much she knew, but not the one she remembered. The trees grew tall here, impossibly so. They were thick, monstrous trees, not the spindly naked birch trees of Burgess she'd haunted for so many years. 

The next thing she realized was a sensation of nausea. As she tried to push herself up, something in her gut began to writhe around. She lifted a pale hand to nurse her temples. It felt as though she'd taken a sledgehammer to the brain. Twice. 

Jack muttered a curse to herself. It was not three minutes and already she was starting to hate this place. Wherever the hell she was. 

Eventually she managed to stand up, though not without stumbling a few times. Her body ached more and more by the second. She felt like a train wreck, and she looked it, too. Her tussled hair was a nest of leave, twigs, and other detritus from the forest floor. Her favorite hoodie was sullied by rips, tears, and a smearing of mud. And as for her pants, well, she'd been needing a new pair of those for a long time. 

Jack found her staff, oddly enough, standing upright several feet away. It's one end was jammed into the dirt. Had she put it there, or had someone thought to erect a flag pole in the middle of nowhere. Minus the flag. With both hands curled around it's middle, she lifted it from the earth to balance it on her shoulder, where it belonged. 

For a while, Jack flitted about the forest, getting to know her new surroundings. The snowfall hadn't lasted long, though the clouds lingered. A mere dusting was left behind, but it would do. It wasn't quite yet winter after all. Not in Burgess anyway. Speaking of which, she'd had some unfinished business there. The last thing she recalled before…wherever this place was, happened to be a particular little boy tripping about the town with his friends. Jack had planned to send flurries there way, liven things up, but that was where everything went blank. It had just…stopped. 

Had she blacked out? No…that didn't seem right. At least not they way she remembered it. One second she'd been calling on the wind for a gust of snowfall, then the next she was on her back, looking up at the tangle web of tree limbs. It didn't add up, then again, neither did much about her existence. 

A thought crossed her mind. Jack tilted her head to the sky, searching for a hint of moonlight, but finding only cloud. Could He be behind this? it wouldn't surprise her. It seemed to be one of MiM's nasty little habits, thrusting a poor clueless creature into being with absolutely no concept of how, or what, or why. In that case, it was probably best not to ask. She wouldn't be getting an answer anyhow...

Just then, Jack heard a noise. 

She stiffened, stilling her breath, listening. Then it came again, a shrill and desperate sound. A scream. Somewhere, a child was in danger. 

She didn't need to run, not when the wind could carry her faster. The air swelled from beneath her, whisking her up above the mammoth trees and into the dull winter sky. 

++

 

The screams led her to a clearing. Here she saw the child, a tiny thing flailing towards the safety of tree cover. It was a boy, six or seven; eight at the very most. Fast on his heels was something Jack had never seen before. That something put a feeling of revulsion in the pit of her stomach. 

It moved like no living creature should; jerking, twisting, wriggling. It was black, shapeless, and hideous. From this creature issued an ungodly sound halfway between a screech and a moan. The very sound sent shudders down the ridge of Jack's spine. 

She landed like a stone between the boy and his foe. Near as she was, Jack finally beheld the creature's…well she couldn't quite call it a face. There were no eyes, at least none that could be seen, nor was there anything remotely indicative of a nose. There were teeth though; sharp, stubby, uneven things lining the insides of what Jack took for a mouth. Stretched out before the shapeless cloud were two spindly arms, black and putrid as the rest of it. Long, gnarled fingers groped at the air in search of prey, but finding nothing. 

Already Jack had seen enough. She lashed out, sweeping her staff through the air. The creature was driven back, parting with another of it's ghastly moans. Then it lunged, arms stretching toward her. Jack made her second swipe, and the creature was again in retreat. This time Jack pursued, bringing the crooked end of her staff down on the monster's head. She'd been expecting a crack, or a thud, but instead the thing merely burst, bits and pieces exploding into the air, then dissipating. 

It had all been over too quickly, not that Jack was about to complain. Whatever that thing was, it hadn't put up much of a fight. 

With the danger gone, Jack turned and searched for the child, but he was no where to be seen. Perhaps he'd run off, hidden somewhere.

"Hello? Little boy?"

No answer. For all she knew the boy couldn't hear her. No one ever did. 

Still, it couldn't hurt to try. 

"You can come out now! I promise I don't…" 

Jack felt a sudden chill go up her spine, and not the good kind. Something else was there. Something not so nice, and it was standing right behind her. 

Slowly, Jack turned, staff at the ready, expecting something ugly and dangerous. 

Well…she was half right at least. 

Under different circumstances she might have noticed a handsome face. Hell, if anything, she may have even appreciated the much needed attention. Instead she noticed only the rapier jabbing itself into the fabric of her hoodie, just half an inch shy of piercing the skin. It's wielder was no monster, but a young man; tall, slim, and sharp featured. 

"Drop your weapon." he ordered.

"Easy...." Jack slowly brought her hands above her head, leaving the staff abandoned by her feet. She gave it a kick, just for good measure, distancing herself from it. 

"I heard screams." The man was stone faced. ''Where is the child?"

"You mean the little boy? He ran off.''

"Is that the truth?" The rapier was lifted to her throat. 

"Yes…He was here just a minute ago. I don't know where he went." Jack tried to speak carefully. The last thing she needed was a gaping hole in her windpipe. 

The man seemed unconvinced, but stayed his hand none the less. Instead, he looked her over in appraisal. With any luck, he would deem her harmless. 

Finally, a decision was made. Without a word, the rapier fell from her throat, finding its way back to the man's belt. She was spared, for now. Wether or not this man trusted her,though, that was yet to be seen. 

Nevertheless, Jack took this gesture as permission to retrieve her staff. She didn't like to leave it lying there, out of reach, least of all when she might have need...

Jack had looked down just in time to see her staff snatched up by a gloved hand. 

"Hey!"

When she looked up again, she saw it tucked carefully under the man's arm, well out of reach. 

"I'll be taking this." he said. 

Jack glared, taking a step forward, "Why?"

"Because you're under arrest."

Well, that was just fantastic.

"For what!" 

"Suspicion of kidnapping." Was the reply. 

"What the hell! I didn't kidnapp--" 

Again the rapier was drawn, and Jack had her hands in the air. 

"Alright, alright! Put that thing away will you!" 

If only she'd had her staff, Jack may have made a run for it. Unfortunately that was no longer an option.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack was led to a pair of gates. They were of heavy iron, flanked on either side by towering stone walls. Atop these walls, Jack could see tiny specs of men; guards patrolling the city boarders for unwanted guests. Such as herself, perhaps. 

Jack was beginning to notice something particularly unfamiliar about this place. Having roughly three hundred years under her belt (the great wealth of which being downtime) Jack was quite well traveled. She could hardly ever stay in one place for too long, least of all in the colder months. Flurries, cold snaps, blizzards--where Jack went, winter followed. It had become a hobby of sorts, spreading the joys of frosty cheer to kids the world over (minus of course all climates where snow was not permitted), and in doing so Jack had seen many, many places. The busy streets of Tokyo; the rolling hills of Ireland; they were as familiar to her as Burgess itself. 

But this place…she was drawing a bit of a blank here. There were plenty of walled cities throughout the world, but this one she didn't recognize. Just what continent was this anyhow? Europe? Asia? 

And then there was the young man. Initially she'd overlooked the strange get up, having been far more concerned by the rapier posed over her heart. Now that she had the opportunity to take it all in, she noticed a few things. 

The look was a bit old fashioned; black leather doublet, black pants, black boots. The only bits of color to this man's wardrobe were accents of gold embroidery about the cuffs and collar. All else was monochrome. 

With a deep metal groan, the iron gates swung opened; Jack felt herself nudged forward.

The city was massive. Buildings towered high, monuments of glass and stone. It was like something out of the middle ages; the kind of city she'd seen in text books over the shoulders of school children. 

She'd heard that medieval settlements were prone to filth and disease. Not so here. Here the streets were clean and open, bustling with well dressed citizens fliting here and there as they went about their business. It was a wealthy city, that much was clear. Shop windows were full of tantalizing treats and exquisite wares. Street vendors called out to passers by, offering sweet smelling pastries and roasted confections. 

As she was led through the streets, Jack realized that people were beginning to stare. At first she'd assumed they must all be looking at something just beyond her (she was invisible after all) a street performer, or something of the kind. But the longer their eyes lingered, the more they she began to wonder...

Jack came to a dead halt. The realization had dawned. They weren't staring through her, they were staring at her! 

Slack-jawed, she mouthed: They see me...

Three hundred years--THREE HUNDRED-- and finally people were beginning to pay attention to her! Granted it wasn't the best kind of attention, but she could care less. For the first time since she could remember, people were looking (really looking!) at her. They saw her, and she saw them. But...why? How? Jack had tried every which way to be noticed (ice sculptures, frosted windows, snow ball fights, hijinks!) yet nothing had ever worked. Then what? What had she done differently?

Jack found herself staring at the young man. He had been the first to see her...had he had something to do with it? No...that didn't add up. He was an adult of all things. Adults weren't meant to believe in spirits, let alone see them. It was only children who believed, wasn't it? 

Another nudge set Jack back into motion. It seemed her staring had been noticed, but not appreciated. Once more she was led on, away from the gathering crowd of bystanders. 

++

At the heart of the city was a palace. The complex itself was guarded by yet another wall, which from a far was not much too look at. However, on further inspection, Jack could see a network of tiny symbols etched into the stone. Some of them she recognized--stars, moons, spirals--but the great wealth of them were unfamiliar.They seemed to be some kind of langue, one she'd neither seen nor heard of. Could it be Sanskrit...no, not Sanskrit. These symbols seemed to lace in and around one another, a latticework of painstakingly intricate detail. Carving them must have taken a lifetime. Or several. 

Beyond the walls stood the palace itself. It was not particularly tall, save one lone tower at it's very center. Atop this tower was something like a globe. The dome of it was pure gold, and littered with decorative silver inlay. A single arched window breached it's otherwise uninterrupted surface. 

As they passed through the courtyard, Jack couldn't help feeling a bit underdressed. Everywhere she looked was an overwhelming exhibition of architectural beauty--the walls, the pillars, the the fountains, the arcade. And as for the people, they were all clothed in elegant finery, where as she stood amongst them in what could easy pass for soiled rags. No wonder they were all staring at her.

Her escort came to a stop just before a set of heavy, arched doors. Here they were joined by two other men, both armed with rapiers and sharing the same black and gold doublet worn by her escort.This must have been their uniform, which probably made them the local authorities (as if the arrest hadn't been a dead giveaway). The two of them shared a few hushed words with her escort before stepping back to throw open the doors for him. The man stepped inside, dragging his prisoner along with him.

The hall was one long stretch of white marble, flanked on both sides by elegant colonnades. Overhead was a painted ceiling, depicting what looked like a man, well adorned by affects of gold and silver, seated on a moon shaped throne. 

MiM? No, humans didn't know about him...did they? 

Jack wished she'd had a bit more time to appreciate it all, but the man had set a swift pace, and with his hand firmly gripping her bicep, Jack had little opportunity for sightseeing. 

She was hurried through hallways, around corners, and finally down several flights of stairs. It was here that she found the dungeons. After the grandeur she'd seen above, Jack had expected something a bit more hospitable. This turned out to be a naive assumption. What greeted her was a series of damp tunnels smelling strongly of rust and mold. It was dark too; the only lights here were rows of torches that flickered dimly against the tunnel walls. 

Her cell was of a decent size. Had it the proper furnishings, it might have made for a nice little guest room. But of course, it wasn't a guest room, it was a prison cell. There were no windows, no carpets; nothing but boring stone walls and a rudely upholstered wooden slab sitting in the corner (assumably this was meant to pass as the bed). 

With a clang, the bars slid shut, locking into place. Jack stood back and awaited some kind of instruction, but the man said nothing. She twitched, his silent treatment had steadily been getting on her nerves. 

As he turned to leave, she cleared her throat loudly. This drew his attention, but the most she received was an even stare before he turned away again.

"Excuse me!" Jack pressed up against the bars. "You'll be giving that back right?"

She was referring of course to the staff that was still tucked under his arm. He gave it a glance, then turned his eyes on her. 

"It's really, really special." She said, plastering a painfully sweet grin onto her face. 

If anything, he could have had the decency to turn her down, taunt her even, but no. He simply turned away and left.

The bastard.


	3. Chapter 3

Boredom was not something Jack was accustomed to. At most, she could survive a few dull moments here and there, but being a hyperactive winter spirit, the very concept of going more than five minutes without stimulation was unthinkable. She knew for a fact that it was physically possible to die of boredom, she'd heard so from that bookish little brunette she sometimes hung around (Jamie, or something like that).

Needless to say, her first go at a stay in prison was…well, unpleasant. There was nothing to do; no snow, no children to play with, no trees to climb. The most she could do to entertain herself was frost little ice finials onto the cell walls, but that had grown tiresome hours ago. Again and again Jack agonized over her own stupidity. Why? Why had she dropped the staff? Why hadn't she flown away? It would have been so easy, but nooooo, she'd decided to play nice. 

Most of all she cursed MiM. If anyone, he was to blame. More and more she was beginning to suspect that he'd been the one to send her here, wherever the hell she was. Three hundred years and this was her destiny? To wither away in some prison? 

No. To hell with that, and to hell with MiM. She would find a way out of this. She was Jack Frost, and staff or no, she WOULD find a way out. 

As the hours ticked by, Jack grew increasingly frustrated. Her legs felt cramped from sitting so long. The best she could to to appease them was to pace around her cell, which in itself was monotonous. 

Eventually she turned to inspecting the bars. Perhaps, by some imperfection in their make, there was a gap somewhere, a place just large enough for her wispy form to fit through. For several minutes she scrutinized them, pushing and pulling, testing their strength, but to no avail. The bars were every bit as sturdy as the walls. 

After a solid ten minutes of wrestling against the bars, Jack parted with a frustrated growl. Nothing was working. She was bored, and restless, and nothing was working. 

Resigned, she fell face first onto the bed and groaned into the hay-stuffed potato sack that served as her pillow. She'd done all she could for now, why waste any more energy? Maybe she should just fall asleep, wait it out? Yes…that seemed like a good--

The doors slid open with a clang. Startled, Jack shot up, scrambling to her feet. There in the doorway was the uniformed man from earlier. With a flick of the hand, he gestured her over. 

"Come with me." 

Jack hesitated, making no effort to hide the hints of distrust in her expression. For what seemed like several minuted, they held eye contact, one cold gaze locked with another. In truth, it was but an instant, and once it was over, Jack stepped forth and did as told. Again the hand was on her bicep--but not before a pair of shackles were clamped down on her wrists--and again she fought the maddening urge to shrug it off. 

They made their way upwards, through the marble hallways, to yet another pair of doors. But unlike the rest, these were of solid gold. At least they seemed to be. Branching across the surface was a latticework of silver, at the center of which was the familiar curve of the moon. Here and there Jack could see a cluster of tiny symbols, the very same shapes that had decorated the outer wall of the palace. 

Flanking the doors were four men, two at each side. They were uniformed, with sabers about their waists. Her escort gave a nod to both sides; two of the men stepped forward, and the doors were slowly pulled open. As the passed through, Jack caught one of the men staring at her. She gave him a silent snarl and grinned when it startled him. 

Past the golden doors was a cavernous room. Like the rest of the palace, it's walls were pure white with marble. An assembly of people was gathered here, men and women dressed in courtly attire. All of them stared as the "kidnapper" was brought before them. 

At the back of the room was a silver throne, and on that throne sat a man. He looked tall, though seated, with strong features and bold brown eyes. His gold crown was seated perfectly atop his head, nestled upon a well kept nest of blonde hair. 

Jack's escort gave a bow, then straitened himself. 

"The prisoner, Your Grace."

The King (Jack assumed he was a king) looked down on them with a kind smile. 

"Captain", he said, in a voice that was surprisingly gentle, "Thank you." 

The King then turned his attention to Jack, "My dear Lady", he began, "what is your name?"

Jack suddenly felt very small. She'd never been called a "Lady" before, nor had she ever been within a hundred miles of a nobleman (one that could see and speak to her anyway). She'd pestered a young prince once, but that had been different. She'd been invisible then, and the extent of her interaction with the boy had been making his hot cocoa freeze over. 

This…this was a little different.

"Um…Jacklyn, Sir, Jacklyn Frost."

Ordinarily she'd introduce herself as simply "Jack", but she figured an occasion such as this called for a bit of formality. 

The King nodded his head slowly, he seemed to be letting the name settle in his mind. Finally he said, "Well, Miss Frost, I've heard some fascinating things about you just now."

Jack was confused by that, "What do you mean, Sir--um, I mean Your Grace." 

"My young friend here told me about what you did today." The King's smile widened as he gestured to someone in the crowd,   
"Go on, why don't you tell us again what happened."

When Jack looked over, she saw a familiar crop of curly hair. It was the boy from the forest! It seemed he'd been found after all. Before she could stop herself, Jack blurted, "I know you!" 

The boy seemed painfully shy as he stepped forward, receiving a nudge of encouragement from the woman behind him. His mother perhaps?

"I uh…" he had a soft little voice, "I saw a Fearling in the forest today. I was scared, and I screamed, but then it started to chase me, so I ran, but it was right behind me!" the boy swallowed, clearly unaccustomed to attention he was getting, "Then…then I saw something fall out of the sky." he pointed a pudgy finger at Jack, "That's her. I saw her stand up to the Fearling. She was even flying, I saw it!"

All eyes were suddenly fixed on Jack. Even the Captain (as he was now known) had turned his disbeleiving gaze on her. A murmur broke out through the crowd as people began to whisper excitedly (and incredulously) to one an other. Jack shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to pull her hood up over her face. She was beginning to understand what had made that boy so uncomfortable. 

With a wave of his hand, the King had brought silence to the room, drawing all eyes now to him. "It would seem," he beamed, "That we have in our midst a most remarkable young woman. Captain, stand down. I believe Miss Frost has been deemed trust worthy."

Without hesitation, the Captain did just that. He gave another curt bow, unclamped the shackles, and stepped aside. Bastard thought he was, Jack wished he'd stayed in place. She didn't like standing alone amidst all this attention. It was just a tad overwhelming. 

The King spoke again, "Come forward, Miss Frost."

Jack swallowed whatever nerves she could and did as told, taking a few steps toward the throne. As she drew near, the King stood. He was even taller on his feet. He looked down at Jack with that same kind smile.

"Few could do as you did today and live to tell about it," he said, "Least of all someone so young."

Oh, if only he knew.

"Thank you, Your Grace." said Jack, trying her best not to fidget, "It was nothing really."

"Nothing?" The King sounded taken aback, "Nothing? Miss Frost, I don't believe you understand what you have done today. To take on a Fearling singlehandedly…some of my best men could not do so and come away with their lives." 

Jack couldn't help a swell of pride at that. A grin spread across her face, as she looked down at her feet, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. 

"You saved a life today, Miss Frost." The King went on, "And I think, with your talent, you could be a great asset to us."

Jack lifter her face at that, "Sir?"

Two hands settled on her shoulders, "Miss Frost, I would like to offer you a place among my finest soldiers."

Here the Captain stepped forward, "Your Grace, I'm not certain this is a wise--"

"Nonsense!" Boomed the King, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. "You heard what Miss Frost did today, Captain, we could use that kind of skill on our side." 

The Captain had something to say to that, but he held his tongue. Reluctantly. 

"Well, Miss Frost?" Asked the King, meeting her eyes with his, "Will you help defend us--our homes, our children-- from those monsters?"

Jack's mouth had gone dry. She'd never been put on the spot like this before. And it had all happened so fast. One minute she was flitting around and minding her own business, the next she'd been thrown in jail, and now she was being offered a job. By a King no less! It was quite a lot to take it.

"I…" 

What should she say? She wasn't even sure she knew what was going on here. What monsters was he talking about? Did he mean that thing she'd seen in the woods? Were there more of them? 

Jack's head was spinning. All in one day she'd gone from being invisible to being the center of attention. It was dizzying; intoxicating!

"I…"

They could see her, all these people could see her. And now they were all staring, hanging on her every word. 

"I um…"

She'd saved a life today. That made her a hero didn't it? Yes, she was a hero! And now this man, this king, wanted to reward her with a job. No! A purpose!

"Yes, I will!" The words raced out of her. She then took a moment to compose herself, taking a deep, slow breath. "That is, if you'll have me, Your Grace." 

The King beamed, clapping her on the shoulder before turning her around to face the crowd. "Captain," he said, "I believe I've found you a new apprentice." 

The Captain had to stop himself from going slack jawed, "But, Your Grace, I already have an apprentice. I--"

"Can surely handle a second." The King finished the thought for him. 

Silence (and affronted) the Captain swallowed down whatever response he'd had planned and did his best to regain composure. 

"I--yes, Your Grace. As you wish." 

"Well then, if it's all settled, see to it that Miss Frost is accommodated. She is to have a uniform and a weapon..."

Speaking of weapons!

"Oh wait, Your Grace!"

Jack winced, realizing she had just interrupted a nobleman. Hopefully that didn't mean beheading.

"Miss Frost?" Asked the King

Jack took another breath. This whole courtly manner thing was going to take some getting used to. 

She cleared her throat, "When I was brought here, something was confiscated from me. My staff; I would like it returned to me. I think I'd be of more use with that than with a sword." 

Without hesitation the King gestured to the Captain, "See to it that Miss Frost's belongings are returned to her."

The Captain gave a nod, "Yes, your Grace." 

"Ah! And before I forget!" Jack felt herself being led forward by the kingly arm around her shoulders.

"Miss Frost, may I introduce Captain Kozmotis Pitchiner." The King gestured to him with a sweep of the hand. "You'll find no better swordsman in all the land. I trust you'll learn a great deal from him." 

As if on cue, the Captain gave a deep bow. "Miss Frost." he said, nodding politely. 

Feeling a sense of obligation, Jack bowed in return, "Captain."


	4. Chapter 4

Jack's fellow apprentice was a boy by the name of Nightlight. He never said much, but was friendly all the same. Jack quickly took a liking to him, which was more than she could say for the Captain. 

Her mentor was strict, above all things. Day after day he insisted she take part in rigorous training exercises; fencing, archery, even hand to hand combat. Hour upon tiring hour Jack was made to practice footwork, and lunges, and parries. Every so often she and Nightlight would be pitted against each other as sparring practice, and just about every time she had her ass handed to her. Ever so politely of course. 

Her new schedule required her to wake at the crack of down, and with all the energy she expended form day to day, for once she actually needed the rest. 

Worse, she'd been forced to don the same ridiculous uniform as the rest of them. Sure it looked pretty neat, but this thing was skin tight, and being made of leather, the material was suffocating. For the first time in her existence, Jack found herself working up a sweat on a regular basis. The experience was grueling; everyday she began to regret her decision more and more. What the hell had she been thinking!

The only consolation for her suffering was the friendship that had been quickly budding between Nightlight and herself. Though shy at first, Nightlight had warmed up to her quite quickly. Very soon she and the boy were spending even their downtime together, playing games or just enjoying each other's company. Jack thought it might be what having a little brother would feel like. 

Sometimes, Nightlight would take the time to help her in her training. Some advice here, a few tips there. He wasn't one to elaborate, but that was never a problem. He simply said what needed to be said and left it at that. Somehow, he always managed to get the message across. Jack thought the Captain could learn a bit from him. That guy did NOT know when to shut up sometimes. 

A few weeks into her training Jack had her first incident. It was early morning when it happened; she and Nightlight were in the middle of having a bout when she felt her muscles start to tremble and hive way. She had already been exhausted from the day before, an the six mile jog around the city that morning hadn't done much to help. She had hesitated for only a moment, but that was enough of an opportunity for Nightlight to thrust and catch her off guard. His rapier jabbed into her shoulder, startling her back. Had it not been for the curled tip--these were only sparing weapons--Jack would Just have been skewered through the shoulder. Luckily though she hadn't; it would only be a bruise for now. 

Tired and frustrated, Jack threw down her rapier. "Agh! I can't do this!" she shouted.

"Jack!" She heard the Captain calling her from the sidelines, "Pick up your weapon and start again." He then gave a nod at Nightlight, who resettled into his fencing stance, legs in lunge formation. Jack however, refused to do the same.

"No." She said, turning to face the Captain. "I'm done."

Kozmotis folded his arms over his chest, giving her the mother of all death-stares. "Jack." he repeated slowly, "Pick. Up. Your. Weapon." 

Jack mirrored his stance, glaring right back at him. She even had the gall to mimic his speech pattern. "I. Don't. Want. To." 

This earned a look of mixed anger and shock from the Captain. He narrowed his eyes and came a few paces closes. "As both your mentor and your captain, you will do as I tell you!" 

Jack retaliated, "What you're telling me to do is stupid! Why the hell should I learn fencing when I'm perfectly good with my staff? I don't need--"

But the had Captain stepped in, "It is wise that a soldier learn many skills should the day ever come that he will have need of them." He then added, "Or she." 

Silence hung between them for several moments as they bore down on each other. Just when the the tension was getting a bit too thick, the Captain spoke again, softly this time. "Jack", he said, for a third and fin al time, "Pick up your weapon." 

This time, Jack would do so. Albeit begrudgingly. 

The weeks wore on in very much the same way. Jack would snark, sass, and sometimes break into a fit of frustration, effectively tap dancing all over the Captain's nerves. In a way, she enjoyed it. There was nothing quite like seeing the utter mien of irritation that periodically worked it's way onto her mentor's face. If she was ever especially annoying, she might even catch him nursing his templed when he thought no one was looking. 

Three months in to her training, it finally happened, the moment Jack had been waiting for since day one. For the very first time, Jack would be going up against her mentor himself. The thought had long put a mischievous little grin onto her face. She'd put up with his nonsense for months, and now finally--FINALLY-- she would have the chance to show that prick just what he was messing with!

They met out on the training grounds at dawn. Nightlight was there, naturally, but a few unfamiliar farces had also turned up. It seemed word had spread that Captain Pitchiner were being going head to head with that spitfire upstart who'd won so much attention when she turned up out of the blue three months ago. Surely that would be a sight to see. 

Jack had brought her staff with her, having every intention of reducing that smug bastard to a human popsicle. She'd that him out of course, eventually, though the side effects might leave him with a nasty cold. 

Both participants had stepped into the ring--well, it was actually just a rectangle crudely chalk-drawn on to the ground, but it would make do. They held eye contact for what seemed like minutes while the crowd of onlookers grew steadily larger. From the corner of her eye, Jack could see various people starting up wagers over who would win. A considerable handful had taken sides with her. 

Finally the Captain cleared his throat, and a hush fell over the crowd. He turned to Jack, who sunk into a fighting stance, staff at the ready. 

"Ah, ah," he said, waving a finger at her, "this bout is for swords only. You'll have to put that aside."

"C'mon Kozmo, don't you wanna see what I can do with it?" 

The nickname had sparked a few giggled from the crowd. The Captain did not seem pleased. He made a face as though trying to swallow down something vile, but when he spoke again, it was with an even voice. 

"I'll tell you what, Miss Frost," he began, "If you can best me with a sword today, then I give you my word, you shall never again have to lay hands on another. Beat me, and you shall be free to train with that staff of yours from now on." 

Jack couldn't help but grin at that. So it was a bet he wanted? Well, it just so happened Jack enjoyed a good wager now and then. 

"Alright," she said, laying her staff to the side, "I accept."


	5. Chapter 5

Jack was quickly realizing that this had been a bad idea. She'd been expecting a little bit of a challenge; a nice fought bout, but nothing she couldn't handle. Instead she found herself parrying for dear life as the Captain came at her with full force, every bit living up to his reputation.

Each lunge was a viper strike; quick, clean, instantaneous. It took all that she had simply for Jack to keep up with his movements, dodging and parrying--left, right, top, center. If she so much as blinked it would be over. At this pace she'd be worn down long before getting the chance to strike back. Needless to say thing's weren't exactly going as she'd hoped. 

It was supposed to have been easy! Sure, he may have boasted a fancy title; sure he was chalked up to be the best there was--but she was Jack Frost goddammit! She was all the power and rage of winter and she was not about to have her ass handed to her by some uptight soldier and his fancy footwork. 

All she needed was a chance. Just one little moment of hesi---THERE!!!

It had only been a split second's pause, but to Jack, that one tiny moment seemed to last for hours. While he was busy driving Jack into a corner (literally) the Captain had failed to notice a crack in the smooth stone floor just beneath them. It was a small imperfection, but still just large enough to catch the tip of his boot, causing him to stumble. This was where Jack made her move. 

She lunged, thrusting her rapier with all her might. She had aimed to jab her opponent in the shoulder, a move that would easily gain her the upper hand in a true sword fight. But as he stumbled back, the Captain's sword hand lifted reflectively to guard his face. What happened next must have been a miracle. In one clean motion, Jack's blade had caught the bell-shaped wire guard of his rapier, lifting the weapon clean out of his hands and sending is skidding across the yard. 

The crowd went absolutely still. All eyes were fixed on the now disarmed Captain in disbelief. 

"Hah!" Jack was beeming, "You lose!"

For a long moment the Captain seemed utterly dumbfounded, either by Jack's amazing luck or by his own sheer clumsiness. Jack couldn't help the wicked smile that spread across her face. It was about time the jerk had been taken down a peg. 

Jack turned to face the crowd, lifting her arms over her head and flexing imaginary muscles. There were murmurs, and then some reluctant applause from the crowd. Jack noticed many sour faces among them; they must have been the one's who'd bet against her. 

Just as Jack was starting to enjoy the growing fan fare, it was all cut short. 

"A bit hasty aren't you, Miss Frost." Came the Captain's voice. Jack turned around to see a playful smirk on his face. "I haven't surrendered yet, have I?"

Jack snorted, "What are talking about, I disarmed you? What are you gonna do now, fight me barehanded?"

His smirk widened. Jack's face fell completely. 

"What? Are you insane or something?"

The Captain cocked his head to the side, clasping his hands behind his back. "What are you afraid of? The odds are in your favor. What have you to lose?"

Part of Jack didn't like where this was going, the other part was starting to feel a bit antsy. What DID she have to lose? If anything, she might just be looking at the chance to humiliate the bastard even further. Now that sounded like an idea…

"Have it your way then." She said, mirroring his playful smirk as she sank back into a fighting stance. 

As for the Captain, he merely let his arms fall to his sides. Utterly relaxed, meanwhile the crowd looked on with bated breath.

This time, Jack would be the first to strike. She gave a yell, lunging with her sword arm outstretched. A simple sidestep was all it took for the Captain to evade her. But Jack would not stop there. She came at him again and again, jabbing and slashing, but to no avail. For every move she made, the Captain had a means of dodging; jerking, bending, and ducking out of the way. Some of his moves bordered on acrobatic. At one point he dipped so low into a back bend that his hands nearly touched the floor before springing back up again. 

It was a real pity they didn't play limbo around here, he'd have been quite the champion. 

"Stand still and let me hit you already!" Jack roared. This was starting to get embarrassing. Here she was fighting her heart out and all this jerk had to do was pull a few gymnastics to make her look like a complete idiot. And just when Jack thought he could do no worse, IT happened. 

In a potent mix of rage and frustration, Jack had completely forgone proper form and was now swinging her rapier as though it were her staff. The more the she missed, the bigger the swing, until finally she felt the jolt of her blade colliding with something. For a moment she'd thought the fight was hers, but instead the rapier was jerked from her hands, leaving her completely vulnerable. The next thing she felt was the blunted tip of the practice weapon pressing into the leather of her doublet, poised just over her heart. 

She gaped. At the other end of that blade stood the Captain, a victorious smirk gracing his pale face. 

"I win."


	6. Chapter 6

The next few weeks of Jack's life were mortifying. After the embarrassment of her public defeat, Jack no longer had the freedom to taunt her mentor as she liked. She could barely place one toe out of line without being reminded of her most recent humiliation. And worst of all the bastard could not be any more entertained. Nightlight had assured her more than once that the Captain would eventually grow tired of bringing up the sore subject (in about a month or two) but Jack would be damned if she had to wait that long. Training had seemed all the more worse ever since that day. From dawn till dusk it was nothing but footwork, and pushups, and suicide-sprints. Hours upon hours of work, work, WORK. She wasn't sure how much more of it she could take before she quit all together.

Who knew, maybe that would even be for the best. She was no good at this whole soldier thing anyhow, so why prolong the misery? The Captain had made it quite clear he didn't want her. The answer seemed blaringly obvious.

And yet, the thought of giving up put something foul into the pit of Jack's stomach. For once in her three hundred year life someone had seen the potential in her, offered her a chance for something more than flitting about unseen for the rest of existence. But was it really worth it? Since she'd accepted this position, life had become one giant mess of sweat and frustration. She hated it. But whenever she thought of Nightlight…he was the first (only) friend she'd truly ever had. She couldn't bring herself to leave him, just like that. 

Jack sighed into her pillow. It was just nearing dusk. For whatever miraculous reason, the Captain had been in an especially good mood that day and had decided to let his students off early. Normally Jack would take this opportunity to spend more time with Nightlight, but tonight she was simply too exhausted. After bidding her companion farewell, Jack dragged her feet all the way back to her apartment. 

After joining the king's men, Jack had been afforded her own living quarters. It was a decent sized place, part of a larger complex for housing trainees and other recruits. If she worked her way far enough up the ranks, Jack could earn herself a house all her own, but for now the apartment suited her just fine. 

The bedroom was modest, but still well furnished, complete with a four poster bed and fine linen sheets. Off to the side was her night table, upon which sat a brass lantern bearing motifs the crescent moon. Jack had wondered about that from the beginning. Just about everything in this city was decorated by moon shapes. She'd first seen them at the palace, but as she got to explore the city, Jack found them in shop windows and woven into the patterns of pretty dresses. 

One of these days she was going to ask Nightlight what it all meant, but for now, she could only speculate, and put it out of her mind. 

Jack had just begun to fall asleep when a soft noise woke her--a gentle hissing sound. When Jack lifted her head, she saw a gold tendril slither in through her window. She reached out to touch it and felt a million tiny grains brush against her fingers, sending a familiar breath of warmth down her arm. 

She knew this feeling. 

"Sandman?" she whispered, pushing herself and moving to the window. She ducked her head out, following the trail of gold sand into the sky where a glowing cloud hung low. Upon that cloud, Jack could just barely make out the figure of a portly little man, dancing about as golden tendrils spiraled from his fingertips. 

Jack smiled to herself. There was something about the Sandman that had always made her feel at ease. Though she'd never met him face to face, Jack had long felt a sense of kinship toward him. From what she understood, every one did. He was a Guardian after all, the Dreamweaver; children knew of him, loved him, looked up to him; even fellow spirits were sometimes awed by his marvels. 

It was often said that the Sandman was as old as MiM himself. Perhaps, some believed, even older. He had been the first Guardian, the world's first light. He had no voice, and yet those who knew him often spoke of him as loquacious, in his own creative way. Maybe one of these days Jack might just introduce herself, but not tonight. Tonight, she could barely keep her eyes open. 

The presence of Dreamsand had put a weight upon Jack's eyelids. The longer it swirled around her, the harder it became to stay awake. Eventually she gave in, slumping back in to bed and closing her eyes.

That night, for the for the first time in centuries, Jack had a truly wonderful dream.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Jack woke with a new sense of determination. Last night had been the most restful sleep of her life (thanks to Sandman, no doubt) and now she felt more alive than ever. All those weeks of frustration and humiliation would end today, she would see to that. 

Jack was out the door bright and early. She set a brisk pace, filling her lungs with the crisp, cold air of early morning. By the time she'd reached the training grounds, the sun was barely halfway risen, bleeding shades of pink across the dark blue sky. 

Nightlight had already arrived, naturally. He'd proven himself an early riser since day one, much like the Captain himself who, oddly enough, was not yet there. Since training began, Jack had made a habit of tardiness. Proper sleep was a thing she'd yet to learn. After three hundred years of taking catnaps willy nilly (and pretty much doing whatever the hell else she wanted), the idea of keeping a schedule was hard to grasp. It had taken her weeks to sort out an appropriate curfew, and even still she could never manage to pull herself out of bed as early as the others. Did they even sleep at all? 

Jack and Nightlight had been in light conversation when the Captain finally arrived. As usual, he strode onto the training grounds with a proud step; head high, back straight. But today Jack noticed something a little different about him. Today, like yesterday, Kozmotis Pitchiner was in an exceptionally good mood. 

"Morning you two." he chimed.

As always, the students spoke back in unison, "Good Morning, Captain."

He came to a stop in front of them, hands clasped behind his back. 

"Nightlight, Miss Frost," he said, "I have good news."

Jack could only assume that by "good news" he meant to say that he'd discovered some new and unusual method of torture---sorry!---training. What could it be this time? Was he going to make them walk on their hands and do archery with their toes? God knew that would come in handy…

Having assumed the worst, Jack was pleased to hear that this "good news" of his was, well... actual good news. As it turned out, there was to be a celebration today, and that meant no lessons!

Jack was awestruck. No lessons? For a whole DAY? Was it Christmas already?

"The King has decided to hold a banquet in honor of the Sandman. He arrived just last night." in the months that she'd come to know him, Jack had never seen the Captain look so excited. For the first time since they'd met, Captain Pitchiner was smiling. Not smirking or grinning, but actually smiling. "He hasn't been for a visit in years!" 

As excited as she was, Jack could't help feeling a little envious. A banquet. The king himself would throw a banquet, all for the Sandman. Jack had never been celebrated before, as so many other spirits were. For Saint North, there was Christmas, a month long affair in some places. Cupid had his Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day went to the Leprechaun. Even that jackass of a Rabbit had a day all to himself. And they were only a handful of examples. 

Though, now that Jack thought about it, she'd never heard of anyone celebrating the Sandman before. Sure, they spoke of him, and children believed in him, but adults couldn't see him, just as adults couldn't see any of the other spirits. At least, that's what Jack had always assumed. Here's though…this place had always seemed a bit different.

For one thing, the people here could see her, and not only did they see her, they spoke and interacted with her! Jack had once spent a whole hour being lectured on the secrets of pie making by a kindly old woman. It had been boring, but wonderful all the same. 

For the longest time, Jack had never questioned it. But more and more she was beginning to wonder. Just where the hell was this place? That had never quite been clear, no matter who she asked. No one she spoke to seemed to have any idea where or what Europe was, let alone what hemisphere she might be in. 

Come to think of it though, did it really matter? Jack was happy here. Sure, Kozmotis was a complete bastard and she hated his guts, but he was only one person. Jack had made friends and neighbors during her time here. It was the closest she'd ever come to having a home. 

She loved it here. 

The festivities began at sunset, which during this time of year came a little after midday. Scores of people had gathered at the palace, all of them donning their very best in formal wear. Ladies wore elegant ball gowns while all the gentleman had turned up in fine robes and doublets. As part of the Royal Guard, Jack and her fellow soldiers had been required to appear in uniform, not that she minded. Jack had never been partial to fancy dresses. There was but one addition to her wardrobe; a silk cape of black and gold, only to be worn on special occasions. 

The banquet was has held in one of the grand ball rooms (of which Jack understood there were several). At the back of the room was one very long table, draped over by an ornate gold cloth. It was here that the guests of honor would take up a place beside the king. All others would be seated at the smaller round tables (equally as ornate) which were scattered throughout the room, leaving of course, plenty of space in the middle to serve as a dance floor. 

For her act of heroism nearly four months ago (and as apprentice to the honorable Captain Pitchiner) Jack had been offered a seat among the king's special guests. She was seated next to Nightlight, who in turn had taken a place beside the Captain. That was no surprise to Jack. However, she would be surprised to see just who had taken up the seat to Pitchiner's left. 

Seated at the right hand of the king, barely tall enough to stick his head over the table, was a little golden figure. It was none other than the Sandman himself. When they'd first arrived, Jack had been thunderstruck to see the Captain throw his arms around the little man in a giant hug. The Sandman in turn had given Kozmotis a gentle pat on the head, as one might do to a child. Amazingly, the Captain hadn't seemed to mind. 

"Sandman," he said, turning to face his students, "May I introduce you to my apprentices. This Nightlight," he gestured to the boy, who then gave a deep bow. "He's been with me for some time. I have every bit of faith that he'll make a fine captain some day. And this," he turned his attention to Jack, "Is Miss Frost." Jack bowed, just as Nightlight had, "She came to us only a few months ago. Word has it she took on a Fearling singlehandedly. And won."

At that the Sandman mad an impressed face, giving a slow nod of approval. He then offered his hand to each of the apprentice. Jack felt a bit overwhelmed the moment their hands touched. She just kept thinking, "I'm shaking hands with the fricken' Sandman! over and over. It was like meeting a celebrity, minus the screaming crowds.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack had never seen so much food. The length of the table was spread across by dish after tantalizing dish. There must have been at least eight different courses splayed out at once; exotic fruits and stuffed vegetables, fresh warm breads, colorful salads, a whole platter of meats, and so much more. Half of the stuff Jack didn't even recognize. There was one dish that looked like a miniature of the palace itself. On closer inspection, Jack found that it was made almost entirely of marzipan, complete with sugar-glass windows. 

With so many options, Jack had no idea where to dig in first. Having apparently noticed her dilemma, Nightlight offered her a bit of something from his own plate, some kind of stuffed meat roll. As she took her first bite, Jack almost felt like crying. The flavor practically exploded across her tongue. It tasted of sweet meet and hot, heavy spice, and oh god It. Was. So. Good. Jack could hardly get enough, and in two bites she'd downed the whole thing. 

After that, Jack tried every thing she could get her hands on. She was almost to busy stuffing her face that she barely noticed when Nightlight nudged her gently with his elbow. 

"Slowdown." he giggled, "You'll eat yourself into a coma."

"Phowwy", Jack apologized through a mouth of food, "I phromif I…" she paused to swallow, "I promise I'll slow down. That is once I get my hands on THAT thing." 

Jack then reached across the table for the morel in question. She had no idea what it was (it kind of looked like purple bacon draped over a glob of orange…something) but it tasted amazing. 

Every so often Jack had spared a glance at the Captain. He hadn't said a word to her all night, probably because he was too busy chatting up a storm with Sandman. Somehow he seemed to have mastered the art of deciphering the abstract symbols which appeared over the Sandman's head. Jack had never once seen him look so, for lack of a better word, giddy. 

Eventually she turned to Nightlight and asked, "Do they know each other?"

The boy nodded, swallowing down a mouthful of fresh fruit. It was a well known fact, he explained, that Pitchiner and Sandman were quite close. 

"I've heard the story a bunch of times," he said in his usual half-whisper. "Sandman saved him from the Fearlings one, they've been good friends ever since." 

Jack looked over at the pair again. It was starting to make a bit of sense. Somehow, she could picture Sandman as the heroic type. From what she knew about him, he came across as cute and harmless, but god help whoever got on his bad side. 

"That's pretty epic." Jack said, "You know, it's weird though. I didn't even know the Captain HAD friends." 

Nightlight snorted a laugh, "He is human you know."

"Could've fooled me." Jack chuckled. 

Once they'd eaten their fill, people had begun drifting onto the dance floor. Despite his initial reservations, Jack had convinced Nightlight to join her in a waltz. Well it was supposed to be a waltz, but Jack wasn't the best dancer so they just ended up swaying back and forth for a while. 

By the time things were underway, just about everyone was on the dance floor. Jack was surprised to see even the Sandman twirling around in midair waltz with a few pretty girl.s. He was apparently quite popular among the ladies. 

One of the only people who hadn't joined in the festivities, naturally, was the Captain. He was still back at the table, sitting alone, and looking perfectly content to keep to himself. 

Now that just wasn't allowed. 

When her dance with Nightlight was over, Jack made her way back to the table to fetch the Captain. 

"Lookin' alone there, Kozmo." she said, earning a look of disapproval. Oh how he hated that nickname. 

"Don't tell me you're just going to sit there all night?"

He shrugged, "Not much of a dancer I'm afraid."

"Oh c'mon, that's no excuse! You're missing out on all the fun!"

He put on a fake smile, "I'm quite fine thank you." What he probably meant to say was, "Go the hell away." 

If Jack hadn't been so stubborn, she might have left it at that. Unfortunately for the Captain, Jack was as hardheaded as they came. 

"Well if you won't get yourself up," Jack took him by the wrists and pulled, "I'll just have to do it for you." 

"Alright, alright!" he said, standing, "One dance, and that's it. Happy?"

Jack wore a triumphant grin, "Maaaaaaybe."

Pitchiner had assumed that he'd be taking one of the court ladies as a partner. When Jack corrected him, he turned and tried to make a b-line for the table. Jack however caught him by the wrist before he managed to get very far. 

"I just don't think it's appropriate." He argued. 

"Oh my god you're acting like a kid." She scolded, "Now c'mon and dance with me. And don't worry, I'm totally not concocting some master plan to get back at you for embarrassing me a month ago."

Pitchiner narrowed his eyes at her, "Somehow I don't believe you." 

Jack rolled her eyes at that. "Whatever man, let's dance already!"

Again there was a grumble of complaint as the Captain tried and failed to pull himself free from Jack's surprisingly strong grip. After a bit more nagging, he begrudgingly agreed. 

For someone who claimed not to be a dancer, he was pretty decent at it. He was better than Jack at least, who barely knew her left foot from her right when it came to waltzing. This became painful obvious to the Captain very early on as she kept stepping on his toes and generally making a fool of herself. 

Eventually, after much trial and error, they found some kind of rhythm, which in the end was just a glorified swaying side step. Still, it was worth it just to see the look of utter discomfort on the Captain's face. He clearly was not enjoying this. He enjoyed it even less when Sandman caught sight of them and swooned mockingly, forming a gold heart above his head. Jack thought it was pretty hilarious. 

Apparently though Sandman hadn't been the only not to take notice. A few couples had turned their heads to stare. Some had even stopped mid-dance and were now whispering to one another.

"Is that the Captain with Miss Frost?"

One woman even started to giggle. 

Suddenly Jack felt herself being pushed away. 

"Hey!"

"This was a bad idea!" The Captain said, flustered. Jack thought she could see a bit of color coming to his face. He must have noticed all the attention they were getting. 

"What the hell!" Jack pouted, hands on her hips. "That's no way to treat a lady!" 

He either hand't heard or hadn't cared. The Captain turned on his heel and made straight for the nearest exit, clearly mortified. 

"Excuse you!" Jack scoffed, pacing after him, only to feel something warm coil around her wrist and hold her back. When she looked down, she saw a tendril of dream sand. 

"Huh?" 

The Sandman put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a sympathetic look, as if to say, 'Don't mind him; he just does that sometimes'. He then gestured for her to stay put before hovering off, probably to find the Captain. 

Jack sighed; frustrated, but resigned. It was probably best to let Sandman handle this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Arcitrus for making this wonderful fan art. So much love <3
> 
> http://arcitrus.tumblr.com/post/40378329865/comission-for-mako-fem-jack-and-human-pitch-from


	9. Chapter 9

When twenty minutes passed without any sign of Pitchiner or the Sandman, Jack grew terribly impatient. She had spent the time being reassured by Nightlight that whatever funk the Captain was in would be cleared up by morning. That of course wasn't good enough for Jack. 

Despite objections from Nightlight, Jack went off in search of the Captain. It was bad enough he'd put her in a foul mood, he didn't need to ruin things for Sandman as well. It was HIS banquet, and he was missing it all because Pitchner had decided to throw a hissy fit. 

"Captain Jerkface can mope all he wants, but Sandman ought to be having good time like the rest of us, and I'm going to see to it that he does!"

With that, Jack turned and marched for the door. Nightlight made a weak gesture to stop her, only to sink back in defeat. There was no stoping that girl once her mind was made up; he knew that from experience. 

In her search for the Captain, Jack came across the trifling little roadblock of not knowing where hell she was going. For the first time it had occurred to Jack that she was not as well acquainted with the palace layout as she probably ought to be. The structure had seemed simple enough from the outside, but the interior was labyrinthian. Corridor after winding corridor, Jack had gotten her self lost far sooner than she'd care to admit. It certainly didn't help that the only light sources to go by were dimly lit torches that lined the walls . Nor did it help that just about everything in this place looked the damn same. 

Just when Jack was beginning to suspect she'd been going in circles for the past fifteen minutes, she heard a noise. It was faint, barely a whisper. For a second Jack thought she might have imagined it, but then she heard it again. Something soft echoing against the walls. 

"Hello?" she called, but there was no reply. So she called again. "Hello? Is someone there?"

The answer was silence, and for some reason it unnerved her. Jack hadn't known exactly when, but something in the atmosphere felt as though it had changed. Suddenly Jack began to noticed things. 

For one thing, it was darker now. Quite a few of the torches had gone out, seemingly on their own. 

Jack swallowed. 

Something definitely wasn't right. 

At times like this, Jack would clutch her staff to her, pulling it close as her one and only lifeline. But she didn't have her staff this time. Since her training began, Jack hadn't been allowed to carry her staff wherever she pleased. The Captain had forbid it. It would only be a distraction after all, and besides, what good would a flimsy old staff be compared to a shiny new rapier?

Oh, if only he knew.

Jack of course had never agreed with this, but then again it hadn't been her position to say so. 

In leu of her staff, Jack drew her rapier and held it steady. She peered into the darkness, growing thicker every second. Shadows seemed to be alive, dragging themselves ever so slowly across the walls. It might have just been her imagination, but Jack was almost certain she'd heard the scrape of claws against stone. 

Jack could feel her heart pounding, thundering against her chest. Her breaths grew short and shallow, as though some invisible weight were pressing down on her lungs. Her muscles tensed and her fingers curled tighter and tighter around the hilt of her weapon. 

Then, a sound.

Jack turned just in time to see the last of the torches snuffed out, as if by a gust of wind. Only it hadn't been the wind. 

What happened next, Jack hardly had the time to comprehend. Without warning she felt the rapier torn from her hands. She lunged after it, but at that very same moment, something thick and gnarled coiled itself around her ankle, jerking her to the ground. Jack's scream was cut short when the stone floor rushed up to meet her, knocking the air from her lungs.

It was completely dark now. The walls and ceiling had been swallowed up by shadow. And as for the floor--Jack's only reminder of it was the feel of her own fingers clawing against stone as she was dragged away. Something had gotten hold of her, and it wouldn't let go. 

Lost in panic, Jack failed to notice the sound of a muffled voice calling through the shadows. She thrashed and screamed, eyes squeezed shut, grappling with invisible demons. One of them took hold of her, pulling her to her knees with its strong hands weighing down her shoulders. 

"Miss Frost!" She thought she'd heard it say. 

Jack lashed out, kicking and clawing, but the demon would not release her. 

"Miss Frost, you're safe!" 

No. No she wasn't safe. She would never be safe!

"Open your eyes!"

Jack was shaking her head, "No! No no no I can't!"

Fingers tightened around her shoulders, pressing into her skin.

"Yes you can." The voice had gone soft. Then, for a long moment there was silence. Jack felt something soft curl gently around her wrist, it's warmth seeping into her skin. A sudden calm washed over her, and the fear was but a memory. 

When Jack opened her eyes, she saw a pale face looking back at her, brows drawn tight with worry. 

"Captain?" Jack said breathlessly. Her heart was still pounding, though it slowed with every passing moment. 

She looked down to her wrist and saw a tiny hand there. Attached to that hand was a glittering gold sleeve. 

"Sandman?"

Jack blinked, her head was pounding. "I…I don't understand. What happened to me?" 

"You were attacked, " Said the Captain, speaking slowly, "by a Fearling." 

He then nodded to something over her shoulder. The torches had relit themselves, filling the corridor once again with warm light. The glow was dim, but it was more than enough for Jack to make out the shape of the writhing black creature several feet away. Jack stiffened, recognizing the beast for what it was--the very same thing that had attacked that little boy all those months ago. Only…no, this one was different. This one was bigger, more substantial. Rather than a formless cloud, Jack saw something more resembling an animal. Or the skeleton of one. 

The creature seemed to be in pain as it slid and wriggled against the floor, it's long fingers clutching at the gold cord wound like a noose around it's neck. Jack followed the length of the cord back to it's master--the Sandman. 

"That thing…" Jack said, fighting the sudden urge to vomit, "It had me. I felt it." 

"We heard your scream." Pitchiner said, "And when we found you…thank the gods Sandman was with me…I'm not sure what would have happened otherwise." He seemed a little shaken, though Jack could see he was trying his best to hide it. 

After a pause, he turned his attention to the Sandman. 

"I trust you can handle it?" he said, referring to the creature. 

The Sandman gave a firm nod, followed up by a salute. 

"In that case I'll leave it to you." he said, "As for Miss Frost, I'll be taking her home now." 

With that he stood, helping Jack to her feet. When asked if she could walk alright, Jack nodded, trying not to lean to much into him. Her legs were shaking still, but she could manage.


	10. Chapter 10

Jack was given the next few days off. The Captain had asked her to spend this time recuperating from the incident, but as usual Jack did just the opposite. She instead took the opportunity to reacquainting herself with her staff, which for months had gone almost completely neglected, save the occasional midnight flurry. Until now, Jack had never realized just how powerless she was without it.

Word of the incident had traveled fast, and while Fearling attacks were not uncommon, the news that one had been sighted within the city (and in the palace no less) had caused some unease. Quite a few people were beginning to wonder wether the incident might be a portent of things to come. After all, no Fearling had made it past the wall in centuries. Nuisance though they were, none had ever been strong enough to overstep the barrier. As Jack had learned very recently, the walls of the city were garnished by spells and enchantments to ward of evil spirits. Now though, there was some doubt at to their potency. 

Had the spell weakened? Or were the Fearlings growing stronger? Whatever the case, something would have to be done about it. If one Fearling had found a way in, who was to say other wouldn't follow? And in greater numbers. 

 

Over the past few days, Jack had received visits from various concerned parities. The most frequent of these had been of course Nightlight. Every evening he would turn up right on schedule for his nightly check in, sometimes with gifts in hand. Just the other day he'd come bearing an armful of white flowers. Named Salus Blossom, or Haven Flower, they were commonly regarded as a sign of health and healing. Jack thought it very sweet of him. 

"You're lucky, you know", he said one night after she'd invited him in. "Not many people escape the Fearlings alive. And even those who do…they don't always make it."

Jack had flopped down on her bed, propping herself up by the elbows. She gave him a questioning look, so he continued. 

"Sometimes, when a person has been touched by a Fearling, it does things to them." He explained, sitting cross-legged beside her, "Some people grow very ill. Other's go mad. And some…well they just disappear all together. I've seen it happen, too..." He paused here, lowering his eyes. He seemed to be remembering something. The kind of something people usually don't care to remember. 

"Nightlight?" Jack said, touching his knee, "You ok?"

"Huh?" He turned his head to her as though snapping out of a trance, "Yeah…" he nodded, sounding distant, "I'm fine." 

At this point Jack thought it might be a good idea to change the subject.

"Nightlight," she asked, "What can you tell me about the Sandman?"

Nightlight tilted his head, "The Sandman?" 

"Yeah, it's just, he seems to be a pretty big deal around here. Why is that?"

Nightlight looked stunned, "You really don't know?"

Jack shrugged, "Sorry. I'm not really from around here. I mean I know who the Sandman is but I've never seen people worship him the way you guys do."

Nightlight shifted, swapping his cross legged position for a more comfortable one. "It was a very long time ago." He was on his belly now, head resting atop his arms, "At that time, our kingdom was still very small. There was no wall back then; Fearlings came and went as they pleased, and our people lived in constant terror. There was no stopping them, no matter what we did." 

"Yikes."

There was a nod of agreement, "Yeah--I mean, I wasn't around to see any of it, but I've heard the stories." Here he lowered his voice. Jack leaned in a bit closer.

"They say the Fearlings would kidnap children--if you were lucky, they'd just eat you, if you weren't…." he shuddered, "then you'd get turned into one. You'd lose your soul and spend the rest of eternity as a monster." 

Jack grimaced, "That sounds…pleasant."

"Oh, I can only imagine. All those poor children…Anyway, things were like that for a long time. Then one day the Sandman appeared and helped drive the Fearlings away. He showed us how to fight them. He even helped build a magic wall to keep out evil spirits."

"But they came back, didn't they?"

Nightlight shrugged this time, "No one expected them to be gone forever. There's just too many of them." 

"You know," Jack said, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling, "Where I come from, there's no such thing as a Fearling or evil spirits…well I guess there's the Boogeyman but he's harmless. Never does anything." 

"Sounds like a paradise." Nightlight said dreamily. 

Jack couldn't help a chuckle, "Hardly. It's nice and all, but it's no Shangri La."

Nightlight rose an eyebrow. It seemed that last reference must have gone over his head. 

"Jack," he said, "Where exactly do you come from?" 

"Well," she took a deep breath, "I've never been sure about that. I just kinda…happened. One minute I wasn't and then the next minute I was. But I guess if I had to pin it down, I was 'born' "--she added air quotes for emphasis--"in this little town in Pennsylvania." 

"What's Pennsylvania?"

"It's in North America."

Nightlight only have her a blank look. 

"You know, the U.S.? You have heard of the United States, right?"

He shook his head. Jack went a little wide eyed. 

Though, come to think of it, this wouldn't be the first time she'd had a conversation like this one. Since arriving here, Jack had made several mentions of well known places around the wold (France, Italy, Russia, China, etc) the kind of places just about everyone ought to have heard of. And yet no one here seemed to have any idea what she was talking about. 

"You know what?" she said as she sat up, placing a hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn, "Forget about it."


	11. Chapter 11

Jack was up bright an early the next morning. It was fours days since the incident, and by now she'd grown sick of all this so called resting. She made it to the training grounds early, this time with the staff slung over her shoulder. No doubt the Captain would disapprove, but she hardly cared about that anymore. After that near death encounter with the Fearling, Jack had no intentions of separating from the staff ever again. She needed it, this she knew now more than ever. If Pitchner didn't like it, well, he could go jump off a cliff for all Jack cared. No one would be taking this staff from her, not without a fight. 

Her comrades arrived as usual, appearing just as the sun peeped it's head over the city walls. Upon seeing her, Nightlight's face lit up. He broke into a run, stopping just shy of ramming into her. Though she'd seen him only yesterday, Nightlight appeared to be overcome with relief. His enthusiasm brought a smile to Jack's face, and she ruffled his hair. 

The Captain however, kept his distance, wearing an expression that was for the most part indecipherable. Jack swallowed down a scoff when she saw him. He hadn't had so much as the courtesy to visit her after the incident, not that it mattered. In retrospect, getting him to dance with her had been a terrible idea. She should have known better than to assume that he of all people would be capable of kicking back and enjoying himself. 

"Miss Frost," he said finally, coming a bit closer, "I hadn't expected to see you back so soon. You look well."

He received only a small nod in response. Jack noted that his eyes had lingered very briefly on the staff. She stared, waiting for his complaint, but receiving none. Instead he turned to his other apprentice.

"Actually, Nightlight," he said "Why don't you take the day off."

The boy blinked and look up sat his mentor, "Sir?"

"You've earned it." The Captain said curtly, giving him a gentle nudge, "Now why don't you head on back to your dormitory and take a rest." 

Nightlight looked very confused, distressed even, but did as told. He gave a bow to each of his comrades and headed off with the occasional backwards glance. 

Well that had been…spontaneous. 

Jack looked to the Captain, who had now focused his attention solely on her. For a long (uncomfortable) moment he said nothing, then, with a deep sigh, he took a few steps forward, closing the distance between them.

"Miss Frost," he began, "I think I ought to have a word with you."

Jack tensed, more than ready to deflect whatever bullshit arguments he was prepared to make against her staff. 

"About the other night…"

Jack gave him an almost confrontational look, "Go on." she prompted.

For the second time since she'd met him, Jack noted that the Captain seemed to be, dare she say, a little bit flustered. Clearly he had something very important in mind, but whatever it was didn't like the idea of being said. 

"Miss Frost, I owe you an apology." 

Jack squinted, leaning back a little. She'd been expecting something quite different. 

"As your superior, it is my responsibility not only to train you, but to see to your safety," he continued, "And I failed you that night." At this point their eyes met. If Jack hand't known better, she might have suspected that he was being sincere. 

He took another breath. Apparently there was more to be said.

"Furthermore, I haven't been completely fair to you throughout your training."

"You can say that again." Jack went rigid. Had she really just said that aloud? Apparently she had. The Captain winced, looking away briefly before meeting her gaze once more. 

"Can you forgive me?" he said.

This time Jack took a step back. He hadn't just apologized. He was incapable of remorse. Wasn't he? 

"Um…" Jack saw an almost deperate look in his eyes, the look of a guilty child who'd just been scolded 

"I guess." 

He smiled a little, nodding, "Thank you, Miss Frost. I shall try not to fail you again."

"Yeah…sure." Jack couldn't help feeling as though something was amiss here. Since when did the Captain apologize for being a total jackass? Jack momentarily mused the idea that this might be some kind of bizarre dream, but a sharp pinch to the thigh ended that train of thought. 

"Now about this…" he gestured to the staff--Ah, finally, that complaint Jack had been waiting on--"May I?"

Jack glanced at her staff, then back to the Captain. She rose an eyebrow in question.

"May I see it?" he repeated.

Jack had the horrifying thought that he might have something unkind planned, but it was only momentary. Sure, the Captain could be a bastard, but he wasn't downright cruel. 

After a pause, Jack tentatively offered the staff to him. He took it gingerly, as though receiving a fragile artifact. In silence, he went about his inspection, carefully studying each and every groove in it's surface. He seemed to be looking for a quirk of some kind, any hints as to what would make such a simple thing so precious to Jack. When he found none, he looked to it's owner. 

"How did you come by this?" he asked. 

Jack shrugged, "Just found it lying around." It wasn't a lie, not really. 

"An I am to understand you are quite skilled with it?"

Jack grinned, "Oh, Captain…" she said slowly "You. Have. No. Idea." 

This brought a smirk to Pitchiner's face. "Alright then" he said, returning the staff to her, "Show me." 

Jack was almost beside herself with excitement. Now THIS was the chance she'd been hoping for. 

"No problem, but you might wanna back up a little."

The Captain quirked an eyebrow, but did as told. 

Jack was smilling ear to ear as she brought the staff up above her head. Things were about to get very entertaining.


	12. Chapter 12

The instant her staff touched the ground, Jack felt a rush of cold surging through her. It sparked from her fingertips, wound down through her legs and filled her to the brim with a delicious, biting chill. A moment later, the cold had spread outward, dropping the surrounding temperature to well below zero. Clouds that hung heavy in the sky let loose with sudden flurries of white, as down below a sheet of ice had crawled it's way over the training ground. 

Clearly the Captain had been taken just a little off guard by all this. One second he was wide eyed, watching the frost creep along the ground toward him. Seconds later he was on his back watching the snowflakes drift down, having slipped on the ice. He gasped, winded, and pushed himself up onto his elbows. Jack met his baffled stare with an all too triumphant grin. It was times like these she wished she could get her hands on a camera. 

"M-Miss Frost!"

Jack couldn't help but giggle. She knew full well she was about to get chewed out, but she couldn't be bothered to care. It had been worth it just to see the Captain fall flat on his self righteous ass. 

"This…this…" he was having just as much trouble speaking as he was trying to get back on his feet, "This is incredible!" 

Jack had to do a double take. Had he just complimented her? Surely not. 

"Miss Frost!" The Captain was breathless as he clutched a nearby pillar for support. "How did you…I can't believe this! Miss Frost, you're magic!" 

Jack parted with a bit of whole hearted laughter, "You think that's neat? Check this one out!" 

She turned her face to the sky, "Hey, Wind!" 

As commanded, there was a strong gust of air. To an ordinary person, this might have been a minor inconvenience, parting them with a hat or parasol. But Jack Frost was no ordinary person. With ease, she was swept up into the air, riding the wind like an autumn leaf. 

At this, the Captain went completely slack jawed. It only lasted a moment though. All too soon he'd regained his composure. Would that Jack could have had him stay dumbfounded like that a bit longer. It was priceless. 

Jack hovered about the training grounds a bit longer before touching down, both feet landing soundly on the ice. Still wearing that triumphant grin, she swaggered over to where the Captain was fighting to keep his balance. He'd since moved away from the column and was now attempting to walk along the frozen ground. He seemed to be doing alright, for the most part, though his legs trembled very visibly. As he was, it'd take nothing more than a light tap to knock him over. 

"Still think I'd be better off with a rapier?" Jack asked. 

The Captain, who'd been busy watching his footing, looked up. He smiled meekly, humbled. 

"You look like you could use some help." Jack said, almost tauntingly. 

"I'm just fine thank you." He replied, earning a shake of the head from Jack. She tsk'd a few times before coming up beside him.

"Here." 

Jack put a hand at the small of his back the other came up to steady him, pressing lightly against his chest. She grinned when she caught the flush of color returning to his cheeks, just as it had the night of the banquet. 

"Doin' alright there Cap?" she teased. 

"Uh…em…" he tried to compose himself. "Fine."---his voice cracked a little--- "Just fine." 

Jack giggled, drawing an accusatory glance from him. 

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, don't mind me." Jack waved a hand in dismissal before setting it back in place to hold him steady. "It's just that you look like a deer in headlights right now."

He squinted, "Huh?"

Right, these people didn't have cars, did they?

"You look a little terrified." she corrected. 

"I'm not--I've just never done this before."

"Never done what? Gone ice skating?" a sly expression took her, "Or been this close to a girl?" 

Oh she'd done it now.

At that the Captain broke away from her, which on his part had been a pretty bad decision as he only ended up on the ground again. 

"You know I didn't mean it like that!" he pouted, struggling to his feet again. His face had gone even redder than before. 

Jack couldn't help but pity the poor guy, not that it was going to stop her from finding the situation hilarious. It had become quite clear to her now that, for all his strutting and military prowess, this guy was a complete an utter flounder when it came to women. No wonder he'd freaked when she tried to dance with him. 

"Easy there, Cap." she chuckled, offering a hand, which he refused. "Just pushing your buttons, no harm intended." 

"Well I'd rather you didn't." He said, indignant, though Jack though she'd seen the slightest hint of a smile come to his face. "Now as for all this," he made a sweeping gesture, turning her attention to the ice rink formerly known as the training ground. "Do away with it please. I'd like to be able to walk again." 

"Ooh, about that." Jack winced, "I can make the ice, but I can't unmake it." 

The Captain gave her a blank look. "What?"

She shrugged, "I can't undo it." 

The Captain groaned, rolling his eyes as he brought a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Well that's just wonderful. I'll have to crawl my way back to solid ground."

"This is solid," Jack insisted, "And there'll be no crawling. I'll help you." 

The Captain didn't seem to like that idea. "I'll be alright, thank you very much."

Jack deadpanned, dropping her hands onto her hips, "Fine. Have fun tripping all over yourself." She then turned and set off with a brisk pace. Only to stop short when she heard her name called.

"Wait, Miss Frost!"

She turned, feigning an innocent face. "Yeeeeeeeeees?"

The Captain sighed, shoulders dropping. His face had said it all. 

Jack inwardly celebrated yet another victory as she headed over to her mentor. Today had turned out even better than she could have hoped. Not only had she awed and humiliated the Captain, she now had him practically begging for her help. It was a shame no one else what there to see it. 

"Now," Jack came up beside him again, this time putting an arm around his waist; the other found his right hand and took hold. "Follow my lead." she said. 

The Captain nodded, though conveniently avoided making eye contact. Jack could feel his hand trembling in her own, and not from the cold either. Eventually they managed their way to what the Captain defined as "solid ground". Here he split from her as though she were diseased, taking a few moments to collect himself. He was like an awkward fifth grader who'd just had his first dance with a pretty girl. Despite herself, Jack found it somewhat adorable. 

"Thank you." He said, once he'd gotten his heart rate down to a somewhat normal pace. "Um…I think that'll be all for today."


	13. Chapter 13

Things were looking up for Jack Frost. Since her wintery display not so long ago, much of the attention she'd enjoyed during her first few weeks of recruitment had returned. She would pass by groups of her fellow soldiers and hear them whisper among themselves. Word had spread of her powers, to which there had been some mixed responses. Some of the more eager believers regarded her with a sense of awe. Others showed their respect in subtler ways. As for doubters, they demanded proof of her abilities. Some had even challenged her, asking that she prove herself by way of the dual. Jack was always happy to oblige them, though sometimes with a bit too much enthusiasm. One particularly rude soldier had heckled her so obnoxiously for a demonstration that he ended up with frostbite in some rather undesirable places. Needless to say he'd kept his distance after that. 

Once again, Jack had found herself at the center of attention., and oh did she drink it in. Given the chance, she would strut about the city, basking in the adoration she received (it seems people had a special appreciation for magic users around here). Children especially came to adore her, as she would happily indulge their every little request. Make it snow, they asked. And so she did, most often with little flurries, but every once in a while Jack would throw in a little something extra, draping the city in a thick blanket of white. 

While this behavior was not something the Captain wholly approved of, Jack was surprised he hadn't outright forbid it. If ever he caught her being a bit too showy with her powers, a brief look of admonition was the only penalty. Occasionally though he might ask that she show some humility, which Jack found near impossible to do. Showmanship had always been a quirk of hers. 

Speaking of the Captain, Jack had noted an abrupt attitude adjustment as of late. His all too frequent criticisms became increasingly less frequent. Taking their place was the occasional nod of approval. Sometimes, if Jack had done something exceptional, he might even compliment her. For once the Captain was starting to seem less like an arrogant prick and more like a generally decent person. Even Nightlight had noted that there was something different about him, though he of course couldn't place it. As for Jack, she thought she liked this new Kozmotis. That was, so long as she kept her distance. 

If at any point Jack got too close, the Captain's pleasant demeanor would give way to skittishness. He'd grow flustered and jerk away, often muttering some feeble excuse. Naturally, Jack did everything in her power to exploit this, as there was nothing quite like the way he blushed, tripping over his own words. Often, Jack would very purposely brush a shoulder against him, a wicked little grin coming to her face when she felt him tense up like frightened animal. Sometimes, if she felt particularly mischievous, she might even pinch him. The startled jump this earned (Every. Single. Time) was well worth the admonition that followed.

It was all too obvious to Jack (and a few other observant parties) what was happening now, not that she or anyone else was about to call attention to it. Jack was quite familiar to the realm of flirtation, having been pursued by more than just a few interested spirits. The most relentless (and experienced) of whom had been Valentine, the cherub faced love-sprite responsible for many a happily ever after. She'd entertained him for a while, but in the end Valentine wasn't the type to settle down. He had wondering eyes and far too much affection to be satisfied with a single partner. In the end he'd run off with a river nymph, and that had been the last she'd seen of him. Not that he was very missed. Jack was never quite into the whole toga aesthetic. 

That doublet however…Jack was starting to notice just how smart the Captain looked in that doublet of his. Black was certainly his color. One morning she made a point of telling him this. The response was a faint blush and a muttered "Thank you, Miss Frost". 

"You know, you can call me Jack." she insisted. "This whole formality thing--it doesn't suit me."

"Ah, I'm not sure that'd be appropriate, Miss Frost." Was the reply.

Jack gave an eye rolled, "Oh come on! You call Nightlight by his first name. What's the difference?"

His blush deepened a little, "Well, you are a lady, Miss Frost. It'd be disrespectful of me to address you otherwise." 

"Says who!" She threw her hands up in exhasperartion, "Look, if you don't quit it with this 'Miss Frost' business then I'm gonna start calling you Captain Kozmo in front of everybody. You know I will." 

He glared, "You will do no such thing." 

Jack just smirked at him. Oh, she would. Jack Frost always made good on her threats. 

The Captain sighed, shaking his head, "Fine. I shall call you Jacklyn then, does that suffice?"

"I prefer Jack." she corrected. 

"Which is a man's name." He insisted. 

Jack scoffed, a little taken aback, "Says who?"

"Everyone." 

"Maybe where YOU come from." Jack humphed, folding her arms over her chest. "Geeze you're sexist." 

The Captain's face fell, "I am not!" 

"Oh yeah!" Jack got right in his face for this one, "I find that hard to believe. You know what, I bet the only reason you gave me such a hard time is because I'm a girl!"

He took a few steps back, distancing himself, "That is absolutely not---hang on." He must have noticed the sly grin on her face, "What do you look so please about?" 

Jack's smile widened, she shrugged, "It's just you're so adorable when you get all riled up." 

He blinked. The blush went a shade deeper, "I…excuse me?" 

Jack took a few steps forward, in response to which the Captain continued to back up until, with a horrified expression he realized he'd just backed himself into a column. 

Oh, the look on his precious little face. She had the strongest urge to pinch those cheeks of his. Jack wondered just how much redder in the face a person could get before they started to loose feeling in their extremities. All that blood had to come from somewhere. 

Just when she'd had him cornered, it was Nightlight to the rescue. 

It was as if the Captain had just seen a miracle when he noted the younger apprentice rounding the corner onto the training ground. He quickly slipped away from Jack and made haste to the boy, bidding him good morning. Nightlight, completely oblivious to what had just transpired, returned the sentiment before hurrying over to bid the same to Jack. As usual she ruffled the boy's hair, but as she did so, her eyes were fixed on the Captain, who watched from afar. The minute he noticed, Kozmotis looked away, suddenly very interested in something down by his feet. 

Jack slowly let a grin spread across her face. At last, she had gained the upper hand.


	14. Chapter 14

It was one of those restless nights. 

Being the very embodiment of mirth and mischief, Jack often had bouts of frenetic energy, the kind that made her feel as though she should be bouncing to and fro, bounding through towns and forests, bringing with her all the joyful chaos of a winter storm. Since joining the ranks, she hadn't had much of a chance to do so. Most days she returned to her dormitory little energy left to spare. It was a lovely feeling, tiredness. A sweet ache that seeped into her sore muscles, giving way to deep and restful sleep. 

But tonight---Jack felt wild tonight. 

As she crept out through her window, staff in hand, she felt an almost forgotten rush. And oh, how she'd missed that feeling. It had been far too long since she'd truly lost herself to a night of reckless fun, and now that she'd had a taste, Jack felt her hunger growing. 

She fell from the window to be caught up in a gust of win. It brought her high; a lone figure dancing in the night sky. Though she wouldn't be alone for long. 

It soon came to Jack's attention that there was something else in the sky that night. A little ways away, Jack saw a golden cloud hanging low in the sky; upon it was a little person. 

Jack smiled, waving an arm above her head. "Hey Sandman!"

She was almost surprised to see him wave back.

Since the night of the banquet, Jack had seen only little glimpses of the Dreamweaver. From what she understood, he was of the nocturnal sort, only showing himself when the sun had dipped below the horizon. Not that he never turned up during the day--she had seen him once or twice--but with the kind of work his position entailed, it made sense that he keep to the night hours. Even he had to sleep sometime. 

Though…now that she thought about it, wasn't it always night somewhere in the world? Jack had wondered about that. Then again, maybe he worked in shifts; taking turns spreading dreamsand to different parts of the world one at a time. 

Jack let the wind bring her in a little closer, until she hovered only a few feet away from the golden cloud. From here she could she could feel the warmth that poured out from it, soft, and soothing. It was the very same warmth she'd felt comfort her the night of the attack. 

"You know I never really thanked you for saving me." She said. "It was pretty badass." 

The Sandman shrugged, looking a bit bashful.

Oh, no need to thank me. It's what I do. 

"C'mon now, don't be modest." she said, drifting down onto the cloud next to him. She was almost surprised to find it solid. 

"Mind if I join you?"

With a nod of approval from the Sandman, Jack made herself comfortable, sliding down into a cross-legged position. For a while nothing was said; Jack merely watched as the Sandman went about his nightly routine, twirling little orbs of gold in his hands before sending them down to the city below. If she looked closely, Jack could see tiny figures breaking free of each tendril (a kitten, a flower, a galloping stag). She couldn't help but wonder which of these dreams belonged to the people she knew. What did Nightlight dream of as he slept? And the Captain? 

Speaking of…

"Hey" she said, "Mind if I ask you something?" 

The Sandman turned his face to her, eyebrows raised. 

She took this as a 'yes' and proceeded. 

"Word is that you and the Captain go way back."

Sandy nodded, a fond smile coming to his face. He then pointed to a gold shape as it appeared above his head. An hourglass which morphed into the form of a small child. 

"So you've known him since he was a kid?"

Another nod. 

"How'd you meet him?"

Here he made a face, one hand stroking his chin. He seemed to be contemplating wether or not to tell her. After a few seconds of this he formed another shape over his head, a silhouette of what looked like the Captain. 

It's for him to tell. 

Jack frowned, disappointed, though she would't press the matter. If Sandman felt he hadn't the right to tell her, then she couldn't argue with that. Still, she felt curiosity growing, nagging at her. She'd just have to find out some other way. 

"I see…" She said, receiving an apologetic look from the Sandman.

I'd tell you if I could. 

Jack shrugged, "Nah, it's fine. I respect that." Then she smiled, "You must be a pretty good friend, huh?"

Sandman smiled back.

I do what I can. 

 

Visits with the Sandman became more frequent for Jack. Very soon she was spending a great deal of her nights hovering over the city with the Dreamweaver, often conversing and sharing stories, though sometimes she only kept quiet and appreciated his work. As time went by, Jack became more efficient at deciphering the Sandman's more abstract messages. She came to recognize obtuse figures and bizarre symbols, many of which reminded her of the markings that decked the outwear wall (which the Sandman had built, go figure). Before long, Jack had dubbed him with the nickname "Sandy". He seemed to approve of it. 

Occasionally, Jack would spot the Sandman (or Sandy as he would thereafter be refered to) mingling with the citizens (usually children) though for the most part he kept a respectable distance, surfacing only when dusk had arrived. It was typically around this time of day that Kosmotis Pitchiner turned up, fresh from the training ground. Jack had figured this out after following him home one night after lessons were ended. She hadn't been stalking, not really. She was just…curious, that's all. 

He'd caught up with Sandy a little ways off from the palace, a small grove tucked away in the trees. This must have been their regular spot, as the Sandman had already arrived and was waiting patiently, twirling a bit of gold sand to entertain himself. After a quick hello, the Captain settled down next to him and went on to describe the day's events. More than once he'd dropped a complaint about "That Damnable Miss Frost" and her tendency to invade personal space. It had taken everything in Jack's power not to burst out laughing each time, else she might be discovered. 

At some point during the night, Kozmotis did something Jack found a bit out of character. After a quiet yawn, he had leaned a little to his right, head resting against Sandy's shoulder. The Sandman had then smiled and given him a gentle pat on the head. For Jack, it called to mind the sight of parent and child, one nestled against the other. It brought a smile to her face.

It was odd though, seeing the Captain like this. As of late Jack had begun to notice that there was indeed more to Kozmotis Pitchiner than his upright militant demeanor. For one thing, this man could not handle being within five feet of a woman. Behind all that pomp was a stuttering love-stared idiot with no concept of flirtation. And behind that idiot was the remnants of what seemed to be a fairly happy childhood. One that apparently had involved the Sandman. 

Jack was almost too distracted by her own sentimentality to notice when the Captain stood, bidding his friend farewell, and making his way out of the grove. She froze, realizing that his current trajectory would bring him right to her. At that moment she panicked a little, jerking back and forth as she tried to make up her mind about what to do. Should she fly? No, at this distance he was bound to see her. She should run then! No...no that wouldn't do either. Then she'd be seen for sure. 

With seemingly no other option, Jack did the only sensible thing and slunk back into some nearby foliage, hiding herself from view. At least, this had been her intention. Jack quickly came to realize that this had been a bad idea. Apparently this "foliage" she was trying to hide in had turned out to be a thorn bush. Not a very comfortable place to be. 

"Ow, shit!" The curse came out before she had a chance to stop herself. Realizing her mistake, Jack cursed again, which didn't much help her situation, though by that point her cover had been effectively blow. 

Jack struggled for a bit, then paused when she realized that something very sharp was poking her in the chest. That something happened to be blade of a rapier.

"Miss Frost?" the Captain was quick to recognize her. Once he had, the rapier fell from her chest and made its was back to his belt. "What are you doing here?" 

"Oh, you know, just out for a stroll. I absolutely wasn't just spying on you and Sandy." 

Kozmotis looked very tempted to draw his sword again, "Excuse me? You mean you were just eavesdropping!" 

Jack winced, making an innocent face, "Lil' bit?"

"Oh?" he folded his arms, head cocked to the side, eyes narrow, "And were you very entertained?"

Honestly?

"Define entertained." Jack said, "Because if by entertained you mean I found it very adorable then yes, I was very entertained." 

Oh, there was that word again. Kozmotis flushed, trying his best not to looked ruffled. How he HATED to be called "adorable". 

"I hope you realize this is an invasion of my privacy." He growled. 

"Oh my god would you relax!" Jack huffed, "It's not like I read your diary."

"I do not keep a diary! And if I did I'd keep it far away from---WHAT IS SO FUNNY!" 

Jack simply couldn't help herself. It was everything--the tone of voice, the look on his face--Jack couldn't help but find it all pretty damn hilarious. Despite her best efforts, Jack was giggling uncontrollably. The angrier he got, the more ridiculous he sounded, and the more hilarious it all was. 

Not that he found it very hilarious. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Jack chuckled, "You're just so friggin' adorable right now!" 

"I'm not---How many times do I have to---You'll be hearing about this tomorrow, Miss Frost!" 

It seemed the Captain had already had enough. With all the dignity of a sputtering angry teenager, Kozmotis turned and marched away. Jack called after him, only to be ignored outright. 

Now that just wouldn't do. 

Crouching down, Jack scooped up a handful of snow, packing it together in a tight ball. As she stood, Jack took aim. With a deft swing of the arm, Jack's snowball had been launched. It sped through the air for a few short seconds before exploding against the back of Pitchiner's head.

He stopped dead in his tracks, body rigid. Then, in the next instant he spun around with what could only be described as a death stare aimed directly at Jack. 

"You hit me." he muttered softly, in disbelief. "You…hit me!"

Jack flinched back a little; she was on the verge of regretting what she'd done when she noticed a spark of mischief in the Captain's eyes. Slowly, a grin came to his face. Jack mirrored it with her own, feeling quite smug as she thought to herself: Works every time. 

Before she knew it, Jack was dodging a maelstrom of snowballs. They weren't quite as well made as her own, but god damn did those things fly. Not surprisingly, Kozmotis had quite the throwing arm. 

Jack was quick to respond with her own line of ammunition, sending out one perfectly formed snowball after the other. A great deal of them missed, but every so often one would nick him in the shoulder or about the hip. The Captain was quite good at dodging, but Jack was even better at throwing, and pretty soon she'd managed to hit him square in the face, knocking him off balance and into the snow. Here Jack had planned to take the advantage and strike a final blow, but no sooner had the Captain gone down that he was back on his feet with renewed vigor. 

By now they'd closed the distance between one another, standing only a few feet apart as their little war waged on. At this point in the game their tactics had devolved from using actual ammo to flinging loose heaps of snow at one another. Then, before she realized what she was doing, Jack went in for the kill, hurling herself at the Captain and tackling him to the ground. And then, It must have been in the heat of the moment, but when Jack finally caught up with herself, she realized that she'd effectively straddled the Captain and now had both of his arms pinned into the snow. Looking up at her, his face quickly morphed from surprise to a mortified blush. 

Then came the excruciatingly long awkward silence. 

Jack wasn't sure how long they'd been staring at each other when she finally pulled herself off of him. It had seemed like hours. The first thing she did then was apologize, to which the response had been something almost entirely inaudible. When Jack looked over, she saw that Kozmotis trying very hard to say something, but the best he managed was some kind of strangled mumble. 

"Um…er…um..I…M-Miss Frost…"

Jack wasn't doing much better herself. There were quite a few things she would like to say, but none of them were being particularly cooperative. 

What eventually came out was, "I liked that." 

Kozmotis, who'd been sitting in the snow several feet away, looked over at her, face blank. He seemed dazed. 

"The snowball fight, I mean." Jack added, just to be clear. "Not the part where I…you know what let's just forget that ever happened." 

"Yeah…" Was all he said before going quiet. A few more moments of silent brooding and he'd pulled himself up, bidding a hasty "Good Night, Miss Frost", and heading off.


	15. Chapter 15

By morning, Jack had all but recovered from the "incident". The Captain however was not so resilient. Throughout that day's training, he'd made special precautions not to get too close to her. As usual, Nightlight was oblivious to this behavior; Jack of course wasn't. 

When lessons had ended, Jack made to follow Nightlight back to the dormitories, only to be called aside by the Captain. He waited a few moments for Nightlight to go out of earshot before starting up in a hushed voice. 

"I think we ought to have a talk about yesterday."

Jack nearly groaned. She'd been so dreading this. 

"Now," he continued, "I think we can both agree that what happened was quite inappropriate; as master and apprentice, such behavior cannot be allowed between us. Least of all out in the open. Gods forbid if anyone saw us…." he cleared his throat, lowering his voice, "They might have assumed certain things." 

"Assumed what? That were just two kids having a good old romp around in the snow?"

He gave her an unamused look, "Miss Frost you know full well what I am referring to."

Indeed she did. 

"So? It's not like you're sworn to celibacy. How is it anyone else's business if Captain Kozmo has a little fun now and then? We weren't even doing anything!" 

"I out rank you, Frost." he hissed, "I am to set an example. It is not my place to go frolicking about through the snow with my pupils! Or anyone for that matter!"

Jack made a growl of frustration, gesturing angrily as though she wanted nothing more at that moment than to choke him, "See, that's your problem! You don't know how to have fun! It's always formalities and march in formation and---UGH!! I can't stand that crap! You need to loosen up! For once can you not be Captain Killjoy and just have a good time?"

The Captain was silent after that. Jack wasn't sure if this meant he was considering what she'd said or just standing there seething quietly. She could only hope it was the former. 

Finally he spoke up, "Miss Fr--Jacklyn." 

Jacklyn. Well that had been a first. 

"You don't understand." he said, giving her a look that Jack almost read as sympathetic, "I am Captain Kozmotis Pitchiner. I have a responsibility to this city, and to my men, and part of that responsibility requires that I set a good example for others, including you. Now I don't know what came over me last night but my actions were inappropriate. I can't let a thing like that happen again." 

Jack sighed, feeling a bit deflated. "Don't you ever get bored? I mean look at you. You wear the same exact thing twenty-four-severn." she was referring of course to his doublet, "Do you ever take that think off?" 

He gave her a mildly scolding look, "That's beside the point, Miss Frost." 

Jack rolled her eyes, "There you go again. Would you please just call me Jack? Or Jacklyn---whichever. Miss Frost makes me sound like I'm a school teacher or something." 

He sighed, "If you so abhor it; very well, I shall call you Jacklyn. This I promise." 

"Bout damn time." Jack teased. She then smiled, feeling the mood had lightened a bit. 

"You know there's something I've been meaning to ask you." She said. 

"Yes?"

Jack was grinning. She was already picturing his reaction. 

"Have you ever been kissed?"

Just as predicted, Kozmotis went stock still, looking as though someone had just put an ice cube down his back. "That's….an odd question." 

"Well?"

He fidgeted, clearing his throat yet again, "I…no."

Jack had to fight back a howl of laughter, "You…you're kidding right? How old are you anyway? Twenty-eight!"

"Twenty-four." he corrected. 

 

"And you've never been kissed?" Jack somehow found this incredibly easy to believe. "Haven you at least been with a girl before---wait who am I kidding of course you haven't."

Kozmotis looked somewhat offend as a bit of color came to his cheeks, "I don't see what's so hilarious. And I don't see how this any of your concern."

Jack stifled her laughter and put a consoling hand on his shoulder, which only made him tense up. "Listen, Kozmo, I'm your friend aren't I? And as your friend I have an obligation to know the gritty details of your love life. Of which there just so happen to be none." 

He flinched away, "I don't think 'friend' is quite the word you're looking for. Regardless, what goes on in my personal life is my business and mine alone." 

"But that's the thing." Jack said, moving in close, "There IS nothing going on in your personal life. I don't even think you have one. And that, my wonderful friend, is about to change. Here's the plan…." 

Jack thought she heard a groan from the Captain, "Gods what masterful wisdom shall I play audience to now?"

With a determined smile she looked him square in the eyes, "You and I," she said, "Are going on a date." 

This time he took a full step back. 

"Come again?"

"A date." Jack quipped, "You know, fancy dinner; moonlit walk---just you and me baby!" She pulled a little dance move here, "It's about time you learned how to treat a girl because let's face it, at this rate you're going to die a lonely virgin with a lifetime of regret." 

He paled, almost too horrified to speak. "Absolutely not!" 

Jack had been expecting this, so she added, "No? I'll tell you what. If you go on a date with me tonight, then I promise to leave you and your personal bubble alone. Deal?"

He looked her over, suspicious, "And you'll make good on that promise?"

She gave a reassuring smile, "Of course!" 

Because Jack Frost always kept her word.

Most of the time. 

The Captain took a long moment to consider this. Then, with a reluctant nod, he agreed.


	16. Chapter 16

They met by the grove at sundown. Kotmotis had insister their rendezvous take place after dark, in a place that ensured total privacy. As much as Jack loved the idea of watching the Captain squirm beneath the watchful eye of the general public, she hadn't argued the matter. It was baby's first date after all. No need to scar him for life. 

Jack had borrowed a simple frock from one of her neighbors. Ordinarily she would not be one to dress up for such occasions, but she figured it might set the Captain at ease if things went the more traditional route. And traditionally, girls wore pretty dresses for a night out. 

Jack was the first to arrive, though she wouldn't have very long to wait before the Captain turned up, prompt as ever. He was wearing his uniform (no surprise there), which at the very least was somewhat formal by nature; more so with the cape included. Still, Jack had been anticipating the site of him dressed in something other than black. But alas, his fashion habits were beyond her control. For now at least. 

He greeted her with a bow, which in return earned a playful curtsey and a facetious "How do you do, Sir?" 

After this, the first thing Jack did was offer her arm to him. The response was a bewildered look from Kozmotis, who merely stared at the proffered limb as though it were something alien. 

"Well go on," Jack promoted, "I promise I don't bite." 

Though her assurances had apparently done little to ease his nerves, Kozmotis did as told, looping arm through hers. He kept his eyes forward as their walk, never once sparing a glance at his partner. They proceeded in silence for only a little while before Jack took matters into her own hands and started up the conversation herself. 

"A little nervous there, Buddy?" she giggled.

Kozmotis darted a brief glance at her, "No." he lied.

Jack quirked an eyebrow, undeceived. "C'mon man I can feel you shaking. Don't deny it." 

"It's just…" he was already starting to blush, "I'm not quite used to this sort of thing." 

"I know, I know," Jack said, a soothing edge to her voice, "But that's what tonight's all about."

"Jacklyn," this time he looked at her, "Do you really think this is a good idea?" 

"Of course I do!"

"Yes but what if someone were to find out…"

Jack swiped at the air, "Would you quit it with all this 'other people' nonsense. Tonight is about you--nobody else matters." 

The Captain looked down at his feet, "Yes but--"

"Ah!" Jack stopped him with a finger to his lips, "No ifs or buts, just go with it." 

For a moment his stare was wide eyed, but he seemed to relax after that, if only a little bit. He let Jack take the lead as they wove along their path, finally coming to a stop at the edge of a frozen pond. 

Looking down at the ice, Jack could't help feeling a little nostalgic. She'd been born in a place just like this, on a night very much like this one, with the full moon hanging low in a winter sky. 

They were seated together on a log, leaving just enough space between them for a third party to squeeze in. It was a long while before either said anything; Kozmotis was too nervous, and Jack was too busy being nostalgic. 

It was the Captain who finally spoke up.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked.

Jack looked at him as though coming out of a daze, "Huh?"

"It's cold as death out here." He admitted, giving a little shiver himself, "You must be freezing." 

Jack shrugged, "Nah, I don't get cold. I mean, I'm always cold, but I don't feel it. It's weird I know." 

Kozmotis nodded slowly, considering. Then he asked, "Jack, if you don't mind me asking, where do your powers come from?"

That was a good question. It had never quite been clear to her. For the longest time, Jack had assumed that her powers came from MiM. As of yet, she'd had no reason to doubt this.

"Well…" she began, not quite sure how to explain herself, "I was born with them. See this thing," she lifted her staff, "I found this the night I was born; I've kept it ever since. I think it's what lets me channel my powers." 

Kozmotis gave a long hard look at the staff, "And you say you just found it lying around?"

She nodded, "Yeah…well….no. I think it was given to me." 

The Captain tilted his head a little, "Well, which is it?"

Jack furrowed her brow, trying to sort out the best way to put it, "Well, I found it, but I'm pretty sure it was left there for for me to find. Someone wanted me to have it." 

She took a pause. Debating wether to add this next part.

"Have you ever heard of the Man in the Moon?" 

Surprisingly, the answer was yes.

"Of course I have." He said, "He's one of our gods." 

Jack was a little dumbstruck. She turned her face to the moon and stared, questioning. After a few long seconds of this, she looked back at Kozmotis.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" 

"He's….a god", Kozmotis seemed a little confused by her reaction, "Didn't you know that already?" 

Jack shook her head, "Well, I always knew he was important to us but I never thought that you humans--"

Jack stopped short. Had she really just said "you humans". 

"What was that?" Kozmotis was watching her closely. He apparently hadn't missed that last part. 

"Hmm?" Jack feigned ignorance, giving him an innocently blank look. "Nah, just mumbling to myself. I do that a lot. Hey look at that!" She pointed to an ordinary looking bird that had just landed in a nearby tree, very obviously trying to divert attention to herself. 

The Captain had not been fooled. He gave her a suspicious look, but dropped the subject regardless. Jack gave an inward sigh of relief, having just dodged the metaphorical bullet. Hopefully. 

Things got a bit awkward after that, though thankfully the sensation was only brief. Pretty soon Jack had managed to revive the conversation, though this time she would leave out any mention of the Man in the Moon, or that which related to him. Instead, they talked about trivial things; local custom, the weather. At one point had asked about the Captain's first meeting with the Sandman, but the answer had been vauge, brief, and oddly evasive. 

"I met him a long time ago," was really all he'd said, and that had been the end of it. 

Eventually, after about an hour of light conversation (some of which had been banter) Jack decided it was time to address a very important issue. She turned to the Captain and said, "Alright, on the count of three, I'm going to give you a kiss." 

Kozmotis froze up, looking almost sheepish. "Wait." 

Jack ignored him and began the countdown, "One."

"I don't know about this, Jacklyn."

"Two." 

He shifted, "I'm not quite ready."

"Three." 

As promised, Jack leaned forward and put their lips together. As this was his first, she would be gentle, as not to scare him away. For his part, the Captain merely sat rigid, neither fighting, nor caving. It was like kissing a brick wall. 

The kiss was short (if you could call it a kiss), and when it was over, Jack leaned back and watched, awaiting her date's response. For quite some time he just sat there, looking dazed and a little disoriented. When he finally spoke up, it was in a murmur.

"That was….um…."

"Boring?" Jack finished the thought for him, chuckling a little, "I mean I know that was your first time but you could have at least--"

"Could I try again?" 

Jack paused, quirking an eyebrow.

"I…" Kozmotis was looking down, as if ashamed. "Could I try again?" 

Jack blinked, thoroughly surprised, "Um, sure. Go ahead. Whenever you're ready."

He turned his face to her. His cheeks were a little red. 

"Oh and Captain," She said sweetly, "Try not to act like a cornered animal this time." 

A nod was his only response. He then took a deep breath, readying himself. Jack sat with her hands folded patiently in her lap, waiting. The Captain took a few more seconds of preparation, the closed his eyes and leaned in. 

It was a shy contact, more a careful brush of the lips. That was until Jack did her part and leaned in, tilting her head ever so slightly. It was brief, though longer than their first, and when it was over Jack noticed a hint of a smile on the Captain's face. 

"Um, thank you." He muttered, eyes fixed on something far away. He seemed oddly content. 

Jack smiled at him, "No problem."


	17. Chapter 17

Kozmotis went home that night to find that his bedroom was not entirely empty. Over the years it had become the norm for a certain someone to drop in on him unannounced. That someone was currently sitting atop his favorite pillow flipping through an old leather-bound volume nearly half his size as subconscious figures swirled over his head. 

"Since when do you read?" asked the Captain, setting down on the edge of the bed to slip off his boots. 

The Sandman lifted his head, then turned the open book to his friend. It's pages were elaborated with colorful pictures and illuminations. He'd only been admiring the lovely artwork. 

"Ah, so that's it." Kozmotis set his boots by the door, then peeled off his gloves. 

"So then," he crossed over to a simple armoire in the corner of the room, unbuttoning his doublet, "What brings you to my humble home, Sandman? Or do you go by Sandy now?" 

Sandy shrugged, then pointed as a set of figures appeared over his head. They were discernibly a man and a woman, and they were holding hands.

Tell me about your date. 

Kozmotis glared, "Who told you about that? No one was supposed to…" he paused, realization dawning on his face, "Unless….You were eaves dropping weren't you!" he jabbed an accusatory finger in Sandy's direction. 

The Sandman put a hand to his lips, stifling a silent giggle. 

"Listen, it wasn't what it looked like." Kozmotis explained hastily. He had every intention of keeping his dignity intact. "It wasn't quite a date it was more of….Miss Frost and I were merely having a little chat. Completely platonic."

Sandy gave him a knowing look, a little gold heart appearing over his head. 

"That has nothing to do with it!" Kozmotis insisted, though the color in his cheeks made that statement hard to believe. 

Sandy's response was to send little hearts fluttering around the Captain's head, which Kozmotis then batted away, careful not to get any stray dreamland in his eyes. The Sandman was all too amused by this. 

"Yes, how very adorable of you." Kozmotis grunted, slumping back down onto the edge of his bed. "Go ahead and mock my pain."

The Sandman paused, forming a question mark over his head. He didn't seem to see what the problem was. 

The Captain sighed, his shoulders dropping, "I'm in a bit of a predicament, Sandy." he said. "It's that Miss Frost, I hardly know what to do with her. Sometimes I think she truly means to drive me mad. And yet…" He looked over his shoulder at the Sandman, "You're clever---what should I do?" 

Sandy tapped his chin, pondering, then his face lit up (in a more modern time this would be the point at which the metaphorical light bulb went off). Over his head appeared the two figures again. They were quickly replaced by a set of rings.

The Captain's face fell. He gave the Sandman an almost offended look, "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

There was more voiceless chuckling from the Sandman. He did find certain joy in pushing the Captain's buttons at times. He was not unlike Miss Frost in that respect. 

Kozmotis pouted, turning away, "If you plan on tormenting me the whole night then I don't want your company. Haven't you got a job to do?" 

Sandy rolled his eyes. He'd seen the petulant side of Kozmotis Pitchiner all too often throughout the years to be entirely bothered by it anymore. If anything it made him feel somewhat nostalgic, seeing that disgruntled look on the Captain's face, or the way he hunched over with arms folded across his chest. It reminded him of the young boy he'd met so many years ago. 

Nostalgia aside, Sandy took this as his cue to leave. It was usually best to let the Captain alone when he was in a mood. Experience had taught him that long ago. He hovered across the room, toward the window, stopping just as he heard his name called.

"Wait!"

The Sandman glanced over his shoulder, Kozmotis seemed to have an apologetic look on his face. 

"I was only wondering," he said, "How much longer you'll be staying with us." 

Sandy thought it over. In response he formed an image of the sun and moon above his head. They circled each other one to signify the passage of a single day. 

"Tomorrow then." The Captain looked almost crestfallen, "Well, will I see you one last time before you go?"

Sandy nodded.


	18. Chapter 18

Weeks had passed since Jack and the Captain had gone on their little "date". As expected, Jack noticed quite a few sublet (and not so subtle) changes in her mentor's behavior. Most notable was a period of melancholy in the days that followed. According to Nightlight, this behavior was typical of Kozmotis in the immediate aftermath of Sandman's departure. He had also warned Jack that with Sandy gone, the Captain would quickly revert back to his not so chipper self, by which he meant to say harder lessons, and far less downtime. This wouldn't have been much of a problem for Jack if it hadn't coincided with a very noticeable change of season. Spring was coming, and with it, warmer weather. 

Jack had never been fond of heat. Being a maid of winter, the heat of spring and summer had her feeling sluggish and often irritable. It was for this reason that she'd gotten into the habit of following winter where it fled. It was always cold somewhere in the world. 

Unfortunately for Jack, this was no longer an option. True, she could always flit off to some northern region and settle there for a while, but something told her such actions would go unappreciated by her comrades. No, it looked like she would just have to tough it out this time. It certainly wouldn't be much fun, but she'd survive. 

The coming of spring would seem to be a time of celebration. All around people were hanging colorful garlands over their doors and setting out bouquets of freshly picked crocuses in shop windows. It was to be explained by Nightlight that such actions were in preparation for the upcoming spring festival, to be held when the warm months were in full swing. For now there was still enough of a chill in the air to keep the celebrations at bay, but very soon the weather would turn; winter would give way to spring. 

Jack had done all she could to enjoy the dwindling days of winter. She'd called upon the wind to spread snow flurries over the city, dusting the rooftops for one final time before the spring weather melted her frosty creations away. She often sighed to herself. Oh how she would miss the scent of snow. 

One morning, Jack woke to find that the landscape had thawed. All was green now; flowers had already begun to lift their heads from the no longer frozen ground. Trees had the beginnings of foliage forming on their branches. In a few more weeks time, they would be in full bloom, their limbs heavy with fruits and flowering blossoms. 

Preparations for the Spring Festival had begun on a mild and breezy day. Decorative lanterns were hung through the streets, to be lit when the sun went down later that evening. Bakers and street vendors had busied themselves making festival foods for the celebrations to come. Nightlight had described it all; sweet berry pies and spring cakes, candies and chocolates, and other confections. 

One tradition of the Spring Festival was the arrival of emissaries from the various surrounding lands. Far south was a vast warren, home to a race who called themselves the Pooka. Jack had never seen one, but she'd heard tell that the Pooka were rabbits of enormous size and great physical strength. They were a warrior race, though their people knew no dearth of art and philosophy. Many had described them as a wise people, whose scholars knew much about the ways of the world. 

From the east came an avian race known commonly as the Sisters of Flight. They made a home in mountain city of Punjam Hy Loo, unreachable to those bound by gravity. Their beauty was said to be legendary. 

The arrival was heralded by a swarm of curious onlookers. People had crowded in the streets to watch as an elaborate procession made its way through the streets. Given the chance, Jack would have hovered above it all for a better look, but her position forbid her from doing so. She was to stand guard along with her fellow soldiers and maintain order. Such a great number of people could easily fall into a riot should things get out of hand. Luckily, most of them were well behaved. 

First to arrive were the Pooka. From where she stood at the front of the crowd, Jack had a pretty decent view of them. As described, the Pooka were noticeably lagomorphic. They were large, with strong shoulders and powerful looking legs. From head to toe their bodies were covered in fur of varying tones; brown, black, and grey. Jack had heard that a rare few of them had snow white fur, though she saw none today. 

Soon after this came the arrival of the Sisters. Unlike the Pooka, they had foregone the ground entirely and instead went zipping overhead in v formation, like a flock of birds. They were fast too, passing over the crowd in a manner of seconds. They would head strait to the palace, and there would present a gift to the king, who in return would offer them gifts of his own. Such was their springtime tradition. 

When all formalities had been exchanged, the celebration finally got itself underway. Earlier festivities included contest, games, and (Jack's favorite part) plenty of food. Many of the Pooka had been crowded by curious children, to whom they gladly offered little gifts. They looked expensive, shimmering rich jewel tones in the afternoon sun, but on closer inspection Jack noted that they were actually hollowed out eggs with meticulously painted shells. The Sisters were a bit more exuberant with their gifts, offering gold coins to the wide eyed youngsters who came to see them. 

The festivities continued well past nightfall. At this time there was music and dancing. Somewhere in the crowd a band of minstrels serenaded the night with jigs and ballads. Jack had been quick to join in, dragging along Nightlight into the dancing crowd with her. Ever his shy self, Nightlight was modest in his participation while Jack led him through the dance. 

Eventually, Jack went looking for the third member of their trio. The Captain seemed to have a habit of disappearing whenever celebrations were underway, but eventually she spotted him. She'd expected to see him sitting alone, watching the festivities from a safe distance. Instead she saw that he was sharing in conversation with one of the Pooka. This one had silver-grey fur, easily standing at about six or seven feet tall. Judging by the boomerangs strapped to his back, it was assumable that he was a warrior type. Jack could only guess that the two were trading off fight tactics and sharing war stories. 

Jack had been debating wether or not to bud in on their little conversation when she felt something brush up against her leg. As she looked down she saw a grey and white puff that she could only assume must be a baby Pooka. Looking into his wide green eyes Jack felt the unmistakeable sensation experienced by most who found themselves face to face with something irresistibly adorable. It was tiny, and fluffy, and oh my god she wanted to just squeeze it! 

Resisting the urge to snatch him up immediately, Jack knelt down and offered her hand to the little creature. "Hey there little buddy." She said in a soft, sweet voice.

The Pooka seemed hesitant at first, but soon was inching closer, sniffing the outstretched hand as a cat or dog might when meeting someone for the first time. Jack giggled when his whiskers tickled against her skin. She moved her hand to pet him, only to flinch back a second later.

"Augh! He bit me!"

Her outburst had earned the attention of Kozmotis and his acquaintance. 

"There's the little anklebiter!" said the elder Pooka upon spotting his junior. He hurried over, crouching down to scoop up the smaller creature in his arms. He was assumably the child's guardian.

"Been looking' all over for you." 

He then glance up at Jack, apologetic, "Sorry about that. Did you say he bit you?" He gave the little one a look of admonishment, "Bunnymund, what have you been told!" 

Bunnymund. For some reason, Jack thought the name sounded familiar. 

"Pelagus," Kozmotis stepped forward, gesturing to his apprentice, "This would be Miss Frost."

The Pooka (who was evidently named Pelagus) gave a smile, "Ah, so she is! He was just telling me about you!"

Jack gave her mentor a curious (almost suggestive) look, "Was he now?" 

"Indeed" said Kozmotis, "He was quite interested in hearing about your unique abilities. You see the Pooka are no strangers to Natural Magic."

As if on cue, Pelagus demonstrated this by taping his foot once and lifting it from the ground, a flower springing up in it's place.

Jack nodded approval, "That's a pretty neat trick."

"It's no trick, see for yourself." He then knelt down and plucked the flower, offering it to Jack.

Jack accepted the offering, flashing an appreciative smile. She took a moment to inspect the flower; it was bright pink, a cosmos flower. 

All attention then was drawn to Bunnymund, who yawned loudly, curling himself into a tight ball in his guardian's arms. Pelagus looked down at him fondly, "Looks like someone ought to be put to bed." He chuckled. He then bid a quick farewell to the others present, promising to return sometime later. 

Now that she had him alone, Jack had a very important matter to discuss with Kozmotis Pitchiner.

"I think you and I have some unfinished business on the dance floor." She said, giving a little wink. 

Just a month ago that very gesture might have made the Captain stutter; however since their "date" he'd steadily been developing a resistance to her constant teasing. Not that he was immune just yet, that'd take at least another year or so. Admittedly, Jack missed being able to unsettle him with a mere look, though there was something to be said for his resilience. Jack found it almost commendable. 

"Well, Miss Frost," He said, challenging her playful stare, "I suppose we do." 

"It's Jack", she grinned, correcting him for about the hundredth time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave Bunnymund's guardian a name so I wouldn't have to keep calling him "The elder Pooka". That said, the name "Pelagus" is derived from "Poelegus" which is a genus of rabbits. That name is not cannon.


	19. Chapter 19

Jack woke up late the next morning. It had been a late night for everyone, and as such lessons were cancelled for today. Jack was grateful for it; she could hardly remember the last time she'd been able to lounge around and do nothing. It was a nice feeling. 

She pulled herself out of bed around noon, throwing the curtains open to let the light in. The sky was clear and blue. Jack breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with the fresh spring air. It was one of those mild, breezy days that she so appreciated. Not too warm, not too cold. Not that she'd ever minded the cold. 

At a little past one o'clock, Jack received an unexpected visitor. She'd just finished pulling into her day clothes when she heard a few quiet raps on the door. She waited, wondering if it'd been her imagination, only to hear the sound again. 

"Comming!" She hurried over, fixing up her clothes and smoothing her hair a little. Jack hadn't looked in a mirror all day; for all she knew she might have looked disheveled. 

When finally opening the door, Jack flinched back a little, surprised. 

"Oh…"

In her doorway stood the Captain, dressed (for once) in something other than black. 

"Um, wasn't expecting to see you here." 

"Sorry to barge in," he said, giving a polite bow, "I only though…well it's such a lovely day, perhaps you might like to join me for a little stroll?"

Jack quirked an eyebrow, giving the Captain and almost suspicious look, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were asking me out on a date, Kozmo."

Kozmotis waved a hand dismissively "Nonsense," he said (Jack noted a hint of something almost playful in his tone) "My intentions are wholly platonic." 

"Suuuuuure," Jack said. There was something shrewd in her smile, as if to say "I'm on to you, sir". 

For his part, Kozmotis feigned total innocence. After all, there was nothing wrong with a friendly stroll. 

At the south end of the city was an area known as the Esplanade. Quite popular among young couples, the Esplanade was a boardwalk spanning the length of a wide river. While beautiful on any given day, most agreed that the Esplanade was best enjoyed by moonlight, when the way was lit by stars and lanterns whose lights glittered on the water. 

"This is the place I go to when I need a clear head." Kozmotis mentioned as they made their way, walking side by side. "It's the air I think---clean and fresh." 

"I don't know," said Jack, looking out onto the river, "The view's pretty sweet too." 

They found themselves a place to sit. For a while, neither said much, preferring to watch the sunlight play itself across the water. Every so often Kozmotis would call Jack's attention to point out little details along the far side of the river. At some point, Jack had the bold impulse to lean into him. When he made no protest, she rested her head on his shoulder. 

The day had ended a quickly in Jack's opinion. All too soon the sun had dipped below the horizon, bleeding shades of pink and gold across the sky. Kozmotis had insisted on walking her back to the dormitory. When they arrived, he bid her a good night. Jack did the same in return, teasing him with a curtsey, giggling.

Then something unexpected happened. Just before turning to leave, Kozmotis took Jack's right hand and lifted it to his face. Jack felt his lips brush up against her knuckles. Despite herself, Jack blushed a little; there was something not unlike giddiness fluttering in her chest. 

The Captain set her hand down, then with a bow, was on his way. 

Over the next few weeks, this sort of exchange would occur several more times. Whenever the opportunity appeared, the Captain might make some innocent comment about the weather, which Jack quickly learned as code for: "Why Miss Frost, wouldn't it be wonderful if you and I went for a stroll today?" 

In the end, their walks always brought them somewhere secret. Over the years, Kozmotis had discovered many an unknown trail or hidden grove throughout the city. He made a point of sharing them with his companion, should she ever have need of them. Thus far, Jack's favorite had been an abandoned villa nestled somewhere in the forest. According to her guide, there had once been a wealthy and eccentric family that lived there. Today, the villa was thought to be haunted. It was a popular story among the village children.

Kozmotis of course care much for ghost stories. Fearlings, demons--- they were one thing, but ghosts, now that was just silly. 

At the end of each meeting, without fail, Kozmotis would bid farewell with a kiss upon the hand. Jack hadn't know what to make of it at first, but she quickly grew to find it very charming. A bit old fashioned, but that sort of thing appeared well suited to Kozmotis Pitchiner.


	20. Chapter 20

It happened late one night. 

It was warm and a full moon; the perfect night for an evening stroll. Jack met Kozmotis out by the grove, as they often did. From here they went along, filling the time with some light conversation. They'd kept up this routine of theres for about a month, meeting (often in secret) to spend a few free hours together. 

Tonight, Jack had a very particular question to ask. 

"Hey Cap," she said, leaning into him as they went along their way, "Mind if I ask you something? I think it might be a bit personal, if that's okay?"

Kozmotis glanced at her. He was quite for a moment, then nodded, "Yes, I suppose."

Jack straitened. She'd had this question on her mind for some time now, ever since that night at the banquet. 

"You've known Sandy a long time yeah?"

He nodded.

"Since you were a little boy?"

"That's correct." 

"Well I was wondering…" Jack had was about to ask the same question she'd been trying to ask for months, "And I know I've asked you this already, but how did you meet him, exactly. You never really explained it. I asked Sandy about it once and he said it was better if you told me." 

Kozmotis looked ahead, considering. Jack had been expecting him to deflect the inquiry yet again, but instead, this time, he answered.

"It happened many years ago," he began, not quite looking at her. "As a boy I lived in a small village quite a ways from here. My family was poor then, but we managed to survive. My mother was a handmaid, and my father sold animal skins to make a living." 

He paused here, as if struggling to remember something. Or not to remember. 

He continued, "One day, our village was attacked. By Fearlings."

Jack felt a knot forming in her stomach. She already knew where this was going.

"They destroyed everything---and everyone. I hid. I was afraid so I hid myself away where I hoped no one could find me. I waited until morning, that's when--"

"Sandy." Jack interrupted, already peicing things together. 

Kozmotis nodded, "Yes. Sandman found me the next day. He had chased off the Fearlings but by then everything was already gone. He took care of me for some time, and then brought me here to start anew."

The Captain paused, as if a thought had hit him.

"I owe him everything." He said. 

Jack felt a sudden melancholy. Moreover, she felt like a jerk for asking. It was no wonder he never wanted to talk about it. 

"I'm sorry." She said.

Jack felt an arm come around her, "Don't be. That's all in the past now. I've got a new life, and I think I'm rather enjoying it." When she looked up, the Captain was smiling at her. 

There was a moment then. Neither moved nor spoke, and for a long time, there was silence. Jack looked into his eyes, and for the first time she realized that they were not black, but dark green. 

All too soon the moment had ended, not by the volition of either, but by a sound that rang through the night. Both Jack and the Captain lifted their heads, suddenly on high alert.

The sound had been a scream. 

They moved quickly, but quietly, hurrying through the brush to find the victim in question. That had been no careless shriek; there had been blood in it. 

Kozmotis was the first to take note of it. That very instant he took hold of Jack's shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. 

"Wait!" he whispered, "Look!"

At first, Jack had some trouble making anything out; it was dark, and the trees were thicker here. But as her eyes adjusted, Jack noticed the shape of not one, but three large creatures. They were human sized, though had very little meat on their bones. Jack thought they looked more like ashy, naked skeletons, with spindly limbs and long, greedy claws, They were huddled around something, feeding. When Jack looked a bit closer, she saw the the object of their attention was the prone body of a young child. It was a little girl, her eyes wide open and vacant. 

At that moment, Jack felt ice cold water filling her veins. She stiffened, both hands tightening around the staff she was now so grateful to have brought with her. There was a sound; something was throbbing mercilessly in her ears. With a clearer head, Jack might have realized that this was the sound of her heart thundering in her chest. At first it felt like fear, but all too quickly the feeling shifted, morphing itself from cold ice to wild and wicked fire. This was not fear. This was rage.

In hindsight, she should have known better. Should have known better than to charge blindly; to disobey orders. But when Kozmotis tried to hold her back, warning her against what she was about to do, Jack Frost didn't listen. She broke free of him, charging blindly into battle. 

The Fearlings turned, six burning yellow eyes fixing themselves onto Jack. She was swift, felling her first adversary with a single swing. But the others would not be killed so easily. They had been given the time to prepare, and when Jack moved for her second strike they evaded her. Jack roared, letting loose a blast of wind and frost to drive the monsters back. It had worked, but only briefly. As the creatures advanced on her as second time, Jack lashed out again, but the air was too warm; the ice could not last. When Jack realized this, she faltered, suddenly afraid. Without the ice, she was defenseless. 

Jack would not be alone for long. Kozmotis had been quick to join the fray. Jack felt herself being pulled aside as he stepped out in front of her, rapier drawn. 

"Jacklyn," he was trying very hard to sound calm, "Listen, I want you to run. Go back to the others and sound the alarm. Tell them the wall has been breeched." 

Jack was shaking her head, cluttching her staff tightly, "No. Fuck that. You think I'm gonna leave you here?"

"That's an order, Miss Frost!" he hissed. 

Jack hissed back, "I said I'm not going!" 

He cursed her, but there was no time left to argue. From the corner of her eye, Jack had noticed a third Fearling claw itself out from under the brush. It was followed by others; a fourth, a fifth. They seemed to be slipping from the shadows themselves; at first a wisp of black smoke that quickly materialized into a tall and crooked form. Very soon there were at least a dozen of them, drawn in by the sweet and toxic scent of fear. 

Jack was trembling now. She felt a gloved hand close around hers. A voice was telling her not to be afraid. But she was afraid. It was dark, and they were out numbered, and she was so very afraid. Jack turned her face to the sky in search of the moon, but found only darkness. Once again, it seemed MiM had abandoned her. 

Then it happened.

One of the Fearlings rushed forward, arms outstreched. Jack willed herself to fight back, to move, to do anything, but her body was paralyzed. She closed her eyes and waited, praying for it to end quickly, painlessly. 

There was an impact. Jack felt something ramming into her, forcing her to the ground. Jack curled in on herself, awaiting to attack, but none came. Instead she heard a scream, then a gasp of pain. When Jack opened her eyes she saw Kozmotis standing over her. But he wasn't alone. Three rows of sharp black teeth had sunk themselves into his shoulder, crunching through flesh and bone.


	21. Chapter 21

What happened next had never been clear to Jack. She remembered standing, hearing herself scream--but after that it was all blank. There had been only sounds, like icicles being shattered, and the vague sensation of movement. 

When Jack came to, she realized that she was on the ground. The first sensation was dizziness, and then an ache that made itself known in every muscle of hear body. Where was she? How long had she been lying there? Jack pressed her brain for answers, but her mind was in a fog. She barely registered the fingers of her right hand as they twitched, curling tightly around her staff. 

Had there been a fight? 

Jack pushed herself onto her elbows; a single glance upwards told her that it was snowing.

Snow? But how? Wasn't it springtime? 

Jack shifted; there was a soft crunch. She looked down to see that the ground was covered in a thick sheet of ice. Overhead, rows of icicles hung from the snow crusted branches of trees, glinting like daggers in the moonlight. It was a scene from the dead of winter; conspicuously out of place on a mid-spring evening. 

As Jack stood, she began to notice odd shapes fused into the ice like black smears. She knelt by one for a closer look and saw what looked like the fragments of broken bone jutting out. Her eyes followed the trail, coming across the remains of a shattered skull, jagged teeth bared in a fractured skeleton grin. 

It was at this point that certain details made their way back to her. 

She remembered it being dark. There had been danger. She'd been afraid, but not alone. Someone was with her….holding her hand…someone….

Jack held her breath; her eyes widened.

Kozmotis. 

Where was Kozmotis?

Jack stood, frantic. More and more it was coming back to her. They'd been out alone. There was a scream, and then they ran. Someone needed there help---a child. They'd found her, but by then it was too late. Something else had gotten there first. Fearlings---and there had been so many. They'd been surrounded, and then…

Jack turned, spotting a solitary figure sprawled out on the ice several feet away. At first she'd over looked it, mistaking it for one of the fallen creatures, but on second glance she noticed a significant difference. Fearlings didn't wear uniforms. 

The very next instant, Jack had dropped onto her knees beside him. He wasn't moving, and when she touched him, his body felt unnaturally cold. 

"Captain?" there was a trembling in her voice, "Captain!" 

At first there was no response. Jack feared the worst, but when she pressed her ear to his chest, she heard a faint heartbeat. He was alive, but barely. 

For a moment, Jack had the most horrifying though.

Had she done this to him?

No. No, she remembered it now. He'd been attacked. Bitten on the shoulder. Jack shuddered, recalling the sound of teeth crunching through bone. That had been right about when things started going vague. Something had overwhelmed her (rage? grief?) and she must have lashed out. 

Carefully, Jack reached over and touched the wound. His doublet had been torn clean through and was now soaked with blood. The touch had disturbed him but he neither cried out, nor open his his eyes. He only grimaced, making a strangled, painful whimper. 

Jack pulled her hand away and whispered an apology, though it had gone unheard. The Captain had stirred only for a moment before slipping back into unconsciousness, falling still once more.

She was shaking now, looking here and there as if she expected someone--or something-- might crawl out from the bushes any moment. But no one came. The Fearlings were dead, the child (what was left of her) was no where to be seen, and they were alone. 

Jack looked up at the moon in search of guidance, but none came. As always, MiM was watching, but he offered no advice, no aid of any kind. Jack felt something like anger welling up inside, but there was no time to focus on that now. Kozmotis was hurt, and Jack had to find help.


	22. Chapter 22

Kozmotis had been in hospital for nearly two days before Jack was allowed to see him again. Even then it had been advised against. The physicians claimed he was unfit for company at this time. Despite their best efforts the wound had begun to fester. The Fearling's bite had put a toxin in him, and everyday it was spreading. In only a short time the infection had wormed its way throughout his veins, eating away at whatever health was left to him.

Jack had nearly had to push her way past the hospital staff as they warned her again and again not to go near him. They said it wasn't safe, that by being near him she might expose herself to the toxin. Jack couldn't care less. She'd survived centuries of harsh winds and wilderness, a little bug wasn't about to stop her. 

Though, Jack would learn very soon that it was far more than just a little bug. 

The first thing she noticed was his skin. What was once pale olive skin had blanched to an ashy grey. Beneath that skin Jack could see spider veins of black where the toxins had thickened. They branched out from his shoulder, the site of infection, as the poison diluted itself through his body, mixing dark sludge with his blood. He appeared leaner, as though the flesh were already starting to melt away from his bones. Worst, Jack thought, was his face. The cheeks had sunken in, like those of a starving man. Beneath his eyes were dark circles, as insomnia might bring. When she reached out to touch him, Jack felt his forehead slick with sweat. Her hand rested there only briefly before he flinched away, as though her touch had burned him. 

At that moment, Jack felt sobered. Her legs started to tremble, threatening to give out where she stood. Jack reached for a chair, pulling it closer to the bedside and sinking down, face pressed into her hands. She rand one through her hair, sweeping it down her neck and back up to her cheek. As she exhaled a deep, shaking breath, her throat began to ache, clenching in on itself. Meanwhile, something in her chest was tightening. 

She hadn't been prepared for this. 

Jack sat there for a while, neither moving, nor daring to look upon the mess that was her Kozmotis. It seemed so surreal that in two days he'd gone from the proud Captain to this withered form. Jack wanted to pretend that it was all a nightmare, but each time she squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, she was back in the same room, with the same yellow walls, and the same stillness. 

It was a while before she could look at Kozmotis again, and when she did, Jack watched. She watched him flinch, watched his hands clutch at the sheets. Every so often he might whimper, or mutter some half formed plea in his sleep. He was suffering, trapped in a nightmare, and Jack could do nothing but watch. 

Jack wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there before she heard someone else enter the room. It was Nightlight.

Nightlight had been the first person to learn the details. Jack told him everything. She told him about herself and the Captain, how they'd begun to see one another. She told him about their walks, and the night of the attack; about the Fearlings and the child whose body was never found. 

She'd seen it then, the look of eyebrows knit, of someone sick and beside themselves with worry. Only then he'd had the strength to keep himself together. But when Nightlight stepped into the hospital room for the first time, Jack could almost feel the boy breaking. 

The first sign had been a small whimper from him; a quick, pained breath. After that he'd started to tremble, fists clenching to fight back what was coming next. It was only when Jack stood and put her arms around him that Nightlight truly lost himself. At first it was a muffled scream, one that quickly crumbled into heavy, gasping sobs. Jack pulled him close, resting her cheek against the boy's head as he cried, whimpering muffled words into her shoulder. 

"Not again." 

He said it over and over.

"Please, please, not again." 

For her part, Jack could do nothing but hold on tight, and wait for the tears to dry. 

 

 

Night came. 

It was a waning moon that hung in the sky, but Jack could feel MiM's presance glowing strong. He was there, as he had always been, and always would be, until the moon itself was no more. Jack looked to him with desperate and determined eyes, praying that this time, just maybe, he would hear her. 

"I know you're up there." She said. 

Jack stood upon a rooftop, alone but for the company of the moon. She clutched her staff to her, as though to draw strength from it, because she hated what she was about to do. 

"Look, if you want me to beg then here it is." Her fingers curled tighter around the staff, "Just this once I need you to listen to me. Please. " 

She took a deep breath, looking down at her feet. There was an old familiar dread rising in her. So often she'd gone looking for answers, only to turn away empty handed. She'd cried, she'd shouted curses into the night---she'd even asked nicely. Always it was the same silence. She feared this time might be no different. 

When Jack lifted her head again, there was a plea in her eyes. She kept telling herself that this time would be different. Because this time it wasn't just about answers. This time there were loved ones at stake. 

"Please." she said again, "You can do something about this, I know you can. Maybe….maybe you and I aren't on great terms but don't take it out on my friends." She was shaking her head softly, trying to swallow down the painful lump at the back of her throat, "He's a good person, you know that. You've seen it. So please if there's anything you can do….anything at all…" 

Jack waited, watching as the moon bore down, stone cold and silent. She closed her eyes, listening for a whisper, a voice on the wind, but nothing came. 

"Please, answer me."

Again she listened. Only silence came. 

"For once would you please answer me!" 

Her shouts died into the wind, unheard but to her own ears. Jack was trembling now, fighting back the tears that stung in her eyes, blurring the world around her. She wanted to break something; to scream until her lungs caved in. She paced, threading a hand through her hair as she tried to swallow the feeling she knew to be rage. But she failed, and at that moment, Jack was filled with hatred.

She hated the Fearlings for all the pain they'd caused. She hated herself for being powerless. She hated MiM for everything he'd done, and everything he'd never done. But most of all, she hated him for his silence. 

Jack laughed a dead, bitter laugh and asked, "You don't give a shit about us, do you?" 

Only this time, she hadn't waited for an answer. Because she knew there would be none. Instead, she turned her back and walked away.


	23. Chapter 23

Jack spent the next day at the hospital. She had approached Nightlight, asking if he'd like to join her, but for his own sake he'd declined. He simply couldn't bare it. 

In his place, Nightlight offered a painted stone to place by the Captain's bedside. It was a luck charm, bearing the sign of the crescent moon. It was a beautiful sentiment, and as Jack took the stone from him, she hadn't had the heart to tell him that his efforts were meaningless. MiM cared nothing for mankind, just as he cared nothing for those of the spirit world. No amount of praying would change that.

Jack set the stone by the Captain's pillow and stared at it a long while, perhaps for no other reason than to avoid laying eyes on Kozmotis. His condition had worsened significantly since yesterday. The infection was spreading, coloring his skin and even darker grey. He was corpse-like; were it not for the careful rise and fall of his chest, Jack might have thought him dead. 

The morning had gone by at an agonizing pace. Jack had spent this time watching the Captain as he cringed and whimpered in his sleep, passing from one nightmare to the next. They must have grown worse since yesterday, as Jack thought she'd seen tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. A few times he'd muttered things. There were pleas; the names of loved ones. At one point Jack could have sworn she heard him crying softly for his mother, whom she knew to be long dead. 

Jack was beginning to feel something like despair as the hours wore on. Not once in three days had the Captain opened his eyes. By now he had gone long enough with food or drink that he was likely to die of dehydration, assuming the infection didn't kill him first. The thought of this had put hot coals into the pit of Jack's stomach. Kozmotis was dying (slowly, painfully) and she could do nothing but sit by and watch as the various ills tormented him. And worse, she felt she had herself to blame. 

Again and again Jack would think: What if I'd listened? What if I'd just stayed put, like he told me? What if? What if? 

There were so many what ifs. 

Half way through the afternoon Jack knelt beside the bed, bringing her chin to rest on it's edge. From here she watched as another nightmare cast a grimace onto the Captain's face. He sobbed, hands clawing at his sheets. Jack took one of them gently into her own, squeezing softly. She leaned in closer, whispering.

"Kozmotis?"

When there was no answer, Jack swallowed down a whimper of her own. 

"Kozmo?" 

She was shuddering now, her hands trembling as they clung to his. Jack closed her eyes, pursing her lips together and fought back the tears that tugged at her eyes. 

"Babe, can you hear me?"

Kozmotis murmured something then. It had been a whisper, broken and barely audible. Jack knew better than to hope that this might be his acknowledgment of her. Somewhere in the garbled mess she'd registered the words "mother" and "please". He must have been dreaming of her. 

Jack took in deep breaths, losing herself more and more with each exhale. She felt herself slipping, breaking down. The tears had broken free now, spilling themselves down her cheeks. She pressed her face into the mattress, muffling her sobs into the fabric. 

"I don't know what to do." She choked, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry!"

She stayed this way for a long time, her hands clinging fruitlessly to him, as though she feared he might slip away the moment she let go. She wasn't sure how long she'd been crying, nor did she care. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. 

At some point Jack must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she remembered was waking to the touch of a warm hand on her shoulder. As she looked up through bleary eyes, Jack thought she saw the sun itself looking down at her. It was only after drying her eyes with her sleeve that she realized it was no sun at all, it was Sandy. 

Jack was almost startled to see him.

"Sandy! What are you…how? I thought you left months ago!"

Sandy gestured to a small gold shape above his head. It was the crescent moon.

MiM?

Jack was suddenly confused. She shook her head, drying away more tears as they slipped from her eyes. 

"I…I don 't understand. Are you saying the Man in the Moon…"

There was a nod from Sandy. He smiled bittersweetly. There was something not unlike sympathy in his eyes. 

Did you think he'd forgotten about you?

Jack still couldn't grasp it. She'd pleaded with MiM, begged for answers, and in the end had been so sure that none would be given. Only it seemed she'd been wrong. His answer was literally staring her in the face. 

Jack allowed herself to smile, suddenly filled with hope. She looked into Sandy's eyes, down at the Captain, and then back again.

"Can you help him?"

Sandy didn't respond just yet. He furrowed his brow, as if in thought, turning his eyes onto the Captain. For a moment Jack thought she'd seen something overwhelmingly sad in his expression. It could only be imagined what was going through Sandy's mind as he looked upon the prone form of his dear friend, the child whom he'd once saved and care for so many years ago. It must have been painful for him. 

Nevertheless, he was quick to wear a look of determination. He hovered over the bed, getting a good look at the Captain. His eyes went strait for the bandages swathed around his shoulder, concealing the source of the damage. At the behest of their master, sand tendrils slithered across the Captains body, coiling around the bandages and carefully peeling them away. 

Jack could't help gasping when she saw the true heart of the infection. The bite mark had festered, souring a deep, sickly purple. It was from here that the toxins were spread, along with the discoloration of skin and the pungent stench of rot. Jack had to hold a hand over her mouth, afraid she might vomit. 

As for Sandy, this seemed only to fuel his determination. He hovered a bit closer, reaching down to touch the wound. The tiniest brush of his fingers illicited a cry of pain from Kozmotis, who curled in on himself, wincing away from the touch. Sandy saw this and frowned, realizing the task that lay ahead would require far more effort than he'd hoped. As he snapped his fingers, the tendrils of dreamland worked their way around the Captain's wrists, restraining him. Jack felt a little uneasy about this.

"Um…Sandy." She said, cringing, "Is that really necessary?"

Sandy gave her an apologetic look.

I'm afraid so. 

Jack nodded. She may not have liked it, but she could at least understand why he'd done it. Whatever Sandy was about to do, he would need Kozmotis to be as still as possible. 

Having made his preparations, Sandy cracked his knuckled, readying himself for…whatever he was about to do. Again he placed his hand upon the wound, this time pressing hard as dreamland began swirling around his fingers, spilling onto the the discolored flesh. What happened next was a bit hard to watch. Kozmotis cried out again, back arching as he struggled against his restraints. For his part, Sandy kept his hand in place, applying steady pressure to the wound. Jack began to fidget, feeling a bit uncertain about the whole thing. She leaned in a bit closer and saw that the dreamsand had begun pushing itself into the wound, digging its way beneath the skin and filling his veins. 

Jack cringed back and looked away. It was bad enough to hear the Captain's cries. She figured it'd be best not to watch. The screaming went on for some time, meanwhile Jack tried her best to distract herself by looking at various random objects around the room. There weren't many.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. Jack peaked from the corner of her eye, glimpsing one of the Captain's hands as it clutched and clawed into the sheets. To her amazement, Jack saw that the ashen color of his skin was receding, being quickly overtaken by a healthy glow. By the time the screams had died down, and Jack was finally compelled to turn around, she saw that the discoloration had been almost completely chased away. All that remained was the ring of bruise-like shoulder scars where the Fearling had bitten him. 

Jack was almost speechless as she knelt back down beside the bed. When the sand had uncurled itself from around his wrists, Jack reached over to take his hand hers once more. She pressed the palm of it to her cheek; it felt warm. As for Kozmotis himself, Jack noted that the pained look had gone from his face. He seemed peaceful, as a sleeper should be. Jack watched him, a smile tugging at her lips. It was only when a swirl of gold sand played shapes above his head that Jack remembered the third person in the room. 

"Sandy!" she turned to him, eyes full of gratitude. "I can't believe---I mean thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" 

Before she could stop herself, Jack had thrown her arms around the tiny dreamweaver, pulling him close into a tight hug. Any tighter and she might have broken something. 

Jack felt a gentle pat on the head, and when she pulled away, saw that Sandy was smiling back at her.


	24. Chapter 24

Jack wasn't sure at what point she'd fallen asleep, let alone at what point she'd crawled onto the bed. But nevertheless, this was how she found herself the next morning, curled up with one arm around the Captain's waist and her head resting on his shoulder. She blinked a few times, dispelling the bleary morning haze from her eyes before settling her sights on the man next to her. Jack smiled, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He was fast asleep, face calm and relaxed. Jack thought he looked beautiful like this, with his eyes closed and the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. She felt almost giddy lying next to him. He was warm, and soft, and Jack wanted nothing more than wrap her arms around him. But for now she would settle for tracing her thumb along his cheekbone. No need to disturb him just yet. 

Jack must have been lying there for an hour before Kozmotis finally stirred. He made a small sound (not quite a yawn), twisting slightly beneath the sheets. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he did was look around the room, seeming almost disoriented. The last thing he must have remembered was passing out somewhere in the woods, so naturally this room was unfamiliar to him. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, wincing as he jarred his shoulder. This was where Jack came in.

"Morning beautiful." She quipped. 

The Captain flinched, snapping his head in her direction. He had been startled, but only briefly. A moment later he relaxed again, his expression softening. 

"Jacklyn?"

Jack grinned at him, "That'd be me."

Kozmotis went back to looking around the room. He was not quite out of his daze yet. 

"Where am I?" he asked, his hand moved idly to touch his shoulder, ghosting over the newly formed scar, "What happened to me?"

"You had a little accident." Was all Jack said for now. She could explain all the gruesome details later. "But never mind," She leaned in to kiss his cheek, "What matters is that you're here now, and you're okay." Then, before he could ask any more questions, Jack slid both arms around him, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. She felt him stiffen only momentarily before his arms encompassed her in return, fingers threading themselves through her hair. Jack wanted to sink into the embrace and stay there forever. She kept thinking about how warm he was, and how wonderful it felt to have his arms around her. 

"You know what," she mumbled, half muffled against his neck, "I think I might love you. If you're okay with that." 

She'd half been expecting him to flinch away, or go stiff, but instead his arms only drew themselves more tightly around her as his cheek came to rest atop her hair. He closed his eyes, smiling, "Why wouldn't I be?"

That was Jack's cue. She pulled away, only to slide her arms around his neck and press a kiss to his parched lips. This time, he kissed her back. 

When they pulled apart, Jack rested their foreheads together. It was then that she noticed something different about his eyes. Where once they had been deep green, his eyes were now molten gold, the same as Sandy's. Jack wondered that it might be a side affect of the Dreamsand now flowing in his veins. 

Jack also noticed when Kozmotis averted his eyes, looking shy all of a sudden; almost self conscious. 

"What's wrong, Babe?"

Jack frowned, then paused as realization downed on her. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that the only thing separating herself from a very naked Kozmotis was a thin sheet of cloth. 

"Oh…..well." She cleared her throat. 

The response was half smile, half cringe. His face was growing steadily redder. 

Despite her better judgement, Jack gave him a sly look, her hand moving ever so slowly to tug at the sheets.

"Mind if I have a little look?"

"Of course I mind!" He swatted her hand away, face turning all the more red. "It's….it's indecent." His voice cracked a little on that last part. 

Jack rolled her eyes, "Oh boo, you're such an old lady sometimes." She then giggled, rolling to the side and snuggling against him. After a moment's hesitation she felt an arm coming around her shoulder. She smiled, nuzzling her face into his chest. A sigh escaped her as she considered how nice it'd be to spend the whole day like this. 

But as caught up as she was in the moment, Jack couldn't help but feel that she was missing something. Something very important. 

Suddenly it hit her.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, sitting up "What the hell am I doing I've gotta find you some food! Aren't you starving? Babe, why didn't you say anything!"

The Captain's stomach chose that exact moment to whine in agreement. He cringed, as though being scolded, and chuckled weakly; Jack suddenly recognized the wrap in his voice. 

"A bit of water would be nice, too." he added. 

A second later, Jack was out the door, feeling very tempted to smack herself upside the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pheeeeeeeew I felt we needed a fluff chapter. Like really bad.


	25. Chapter 25

Recovery was a slow process for Kozmotis Pitchiner. To his dismay, the physicians had demanded he spend the next week or two bedridden. While he was not fond of the idea, the Captain made no protest, mainly because a certain young woman had threatened to tie him to the bed posts should he try anything "stupid". 

It was not all bad though; he would spend this time in the company of loved ones. Jack had elected to spend the next week at his bedside playing nursemaid to the best of her ability. Given that Jack had the nurturing skills of a fourteen year old boy, her efforts were quite admirable, though she certainly overdid it at times. For the first few days Jack had insisted on spoon-feeding the Captain, despite his many protests. He claimed it was an affront to his dignity. Jack claimed not to give a damn. 

Sunset brought about visits from the Sandman, who despite having duties elsewhere had seen fit to prolong his stay given the circumstance. He often appeared, not surprisingly, just as Kozmotis felt himself nearing sleep. No doubt the Sandman had taken it upon himself to watch over the Captain's dreams on the off chance that his nightmares returned to him. It was very possible, though as of yet his sleep remain undisturbed. 

Nightlight had been to see the Captain as well. He and Jack often came together, sometimes bearing little gifts. One afternoon, Nightlight had brought with him a bouquet of Haven Flower to set beside the Captain's pillow. Jack had taken the liberty of fetching a vase for them. 

By the end of the first week, Kozmotis felt strong enough to start walking again. It was a shaky start; the Captain had underestimated what a near week and a half of disuse and three days starvation could do to one's legs. When first standing, he'd nearly caved in on himself, feeling as though his legs no longer remembered what purpose they were meant to serve. Luckily, Jack had been in the room then. She'd caught him just as he fell and stood him back up again for a second try. Some trial and error was required, but eventuality he got the hang of things. 

Once fully mobile, it was a small wait for the hospital to discharge him. Though recuperation had not ended here. After being released from the hospital it was another week or so before he was allowed to resume his Captain's responsibilities---Miss Frost had seen to that. Moreover she had forbidden him from going anywhere near his rapier, and as an added measure had gone out of her way to hide it from him. Irritated though he was, Kozmotis could not help but feel touched at the sentiment. She was, after all, only looking out for her dear Kozmo. 

Re-familiarizing himself with his weapon had been no difficulty---he had a good fourteen years experience or so to thank for that. As per Jack's request (demand more like) Kozmotis had taken his time with the process. First there was footwork to cover, but that was at such a base level that he could do so in his sleep. It was not until he'd had a good bout that the Captain began to feel like his old self again. When in need of a partner, Jack had been all too happy to volunteer. It had been quite some time since their last duel; Jack felt she had a score to settle. 

It so happened Miss Frost was far more talented at hand to hand combat than swordplay. Kozmotis learned this one afternoon after agreeing to go a round without their weapons, and while he felt best with a rapier at his disposal, he enjoyed a good challenge every now and then. And oh, it would be a challenge. Jacklyn was amazingly swift. Even without her staff, there were times when her feet left the ground for a bit longer than they should, as if riding a sudden gust of wind. This may have been only a small advantage on her part were Kozmotis at his best, but as this was not the case, Jack had more than once come very close to seizing the upper hand. At one point she had nearly managed to hit him square in the face. Luckily, he'd managed to dodge that one, if only just barely. 

In no time at all, sparring had become a regular activity for the Captain and his apprentice. It was….a bonding experience of sorts. At times they made bets, though most often they were satisfied to enjoy themselves without the prospect of losing one's money (or dignity). If Jack was in an extra feisty mood, she might get a bit overly physical; tugging, shoving, taunting. Sometimes she'd be inclined to outright tackle him. Situations like this had a habit of ending the same way each and every time. Jack would have her opponent pinned and take only a moment's pause to savor the victory before striking the final. Which in this case was an especially playful kiss on the lips. 

 

Upon his official return to duty, Captain Pitchner had much to do in the way of making up for lost time. His absence (coupled with news of the attack) had caused a bit of a stir. Ever since the palace incident, rumors of the Fearlings' so called rise to power had been spreading. With the latest sighting, of not one, but an entire horde of the despised creatures, many had begun to suspect that these rumors had some truth to them. It was no secret now that the Fearlings had grown stronger. The creature seen at the palace months ago had been only half formed. Not so for the ones they'd encountered almost two weeks ago; they had been far larger, far stronger, and far more dangerous. What was more alarming had been the sheer quantity of them. It was no longer a matter of one or two shades slipping through a crack in the wall; somehow, the Fearlings had found a way to come through in great numbers. Something had to be done, else they might have an infestation on their hands. 

The first of these measures was to increase security. For so long, very little effort had been required to keep the city safe from outside forces. The wall had done it's duty well, warding off all unholy things that might do harm to the people. But now that power was no longer enough. The number of soldiers allotted to patrol duty had been doubled. Jack and Nightlight had both offered to join them, only to be turned down. They were still only apprentices after all. 

The second in these procedures was an investigation. As recents events had called into question the integrity of their wall, it seemed only wise to do so. For this task they enlisted the help of a very particular architect, one known more commonly as the Sandman. The choice had seemed obvious. The wall had been his creation, as were it's enchantments. 

Unfortunately though the investigation would prove somewhat fruitless. After scouring the structure's every inch, Sandy's report (by way of pictograph) described that no imperfections had been found. In conclusion: the magic which had protected them for so many generations was no weaker than it had been decades ago, a revelation which served only to substantiate the claims so many had already made. Their enemy had grown stronger, this they knew. As to how such a thing had happened…that remained to be seen. 

The third measure was to instate a city wide curfew. Men, women, children---no one was to leave their houses after sundown. This of course had been an unpopular discussion, especially with the young folk, but was obeyed none the less. For most part anyhow. On occasion one or two young renegades might be caught sneaking about after dark. As of yet there was no real penalty for breaking curfew beyond mild admonishment and being escorted back to one's home. It was the hope of Captain Pitchiner (and of the King) that no severity would be required. The laws had been enacted to protect, not to punish. 

Naturally, Jack Frost had been among those to be caught breaking curfew. This was of course because she tended to think herself above that rule. Why should she stay cooped up on a perfectly good night when the breeze was strong and the air was cool and fresh? She was three hundred years old and by god she could handle herself! This of course made no difference in the eyes of the patrolmen (thought to be fair she'd conveniently left out the 'three hundred years old' bit). Despite her aptitude for rule braking and generally evading the law, Jack always seemed to make the curtail error of letting her guard down at the wrong time. This ended with her being spotted and promptly sent back to her dormitory, as despite the uniform, apprentices were not afforded the same priveladges as their seniors. This did not exclude curfews. 

In leu of concerned parents, Jack instead had Captain Pitchiner to berate her for any rule breaking. Any any occasion that Jack had been caught snooping around after dark, she would spend a good portion of the morning after being harangued by Kozmotis about the possible consequences of her activities. What if the Fearlings had found her? What if she'd gotten herself hurt, or worse? The lectures carried on along these lines for an insufferable amount of time until Jack was given no choice but to shut the man up with a kiss or two. Or three. Or five….

Either way, he was never angry for long. Jack had seen to that.


	26. Chapter 26

Thunder and Lightening were easily among Jack's least favorite spirits. She'd had the misfortune of meeting them both (thankfully on separate occasions). Five minutes in the company of either was about all she'd been able to stomach. Lightening was a capricious young man with a foul temper, and some of the worst pickup lines known to spirit kind. His idea of flirtation included painfully obvious attempts at groping and some not so flattering complements about a girl's appearance. As for Thunder….Jack had special reasons for disliking her. It happened only rarely, but every so often the Thunder spirit might turn up to ruin one of Jack's snow days. What was meant to be a flurry of winter fun was always ruined by the distant rumble that threatened danger. Children would drop their sleds and snowballs and scurry back into their houses. Needless to say, this never went over too well with Jack. 

On top of being downright rude, Thunder was probably one of the more annoying beings in the spirit world. She had a pretty face, but a hideous laugh, and an awful personality. She also had a habit of stepping in where she wasn't wanted and ruining special occasions. Sometimes she even had the gall to outright insult other spirits, but was always somehow surprised when they snapped back at her. "It's only constructive criticism" she claimed, though it seldom came across that way. 

Common lore often depicted the storm spirits as twins, partners in crime, but this could not be farther from the truth. Thunder and Lightening were bitter rivals, fighting savagely for dominance in the turbulent, stormy sky. It was usually Thunder who started the conflict, cackling some insult and drawing the Lightening spirit out from his hiding place. Often these events proved inconvenient (if not cataclysmic) for those who made their homes on the ground, setting fires and toppling trees onto houses. Quite a few times one of the more peace loving spirits had tired to step in and mediate between the two. The results were always disastrous. 

On rare occasions, Jack had had the misfortune of getting caught up in their little wars. These storms usually put the North Wind in a foul mood, which for Jack meant being battered around the sky like a leaf caught up in a hurricane. Most often such storms were prone to warmer weather, and this made them easy to avoid. But every so often a late winter Nor'easter might take her by surprise and have her swept up into the chaos. If not for the constant threat of being zapped, Jack might have found this experience somewhat thrilling and enjoyable. 

More than anything though, Jack had to feel bad for poor Rain. She was only trying to do her job.

Tonight was one of those unbearable nights when the storm spirits attempted to settle their differences, only this time Jack had herself a roof and some nice thick pillows to muffle the sound. Partially anyway. Every so often she would be jerked awake by an especially violent thunderclap, only to fall back onto her bed face down and whine into the sheets. At this rate she would never get a good night's rest. 

On top of the storm raging just outside, Jack swore she could hear some frantic banging coming from the hallway. At first she'd tried to ignore it, digging her face into her pillow. When it refused to stop, she pulled herself out of bed and dragged her feet, grumbling all the way to the door. She threw it open, ready to tell off whoever'd had the bright idea to disturb her at this ungodly hour---that was unties he saw who it was.

"Nightlight?" she asked, half yawning. 

The boy was shaking visibly, eyes wide open and looking very terrified. Jack was suddenly reminded of just how young he was---eleven, twelve? She didn't bother waiting for an explanation before gesturing him inside, slipping and arm around his shoulder. 

'What's wrong, kid?" She asked. 

He gave no answer, looking down at his feet as though ashamed. He was quiet only until a clap of thunder drew a soft yelp from him. That alone had been answer enough. 

"Oh….I get it," Jack said, nodding slowly. Her eyes wandered to the window, then back to Nightlight, "You're scare of the thunder aren't you?"

Nightlight gave her an apologetic look, probably assuming she'd make him out to be a cowered. Jack put on what she hoped would be a comforting smile and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

"Hey, c'mon," She said, "It's okay. So you're scared of a little thunder, no biggie." 

He sniffled, as if on the verge of tears, "But---"

"Ah! No buts!" Jack gave a playful look of admonition, "Now com'ere."

Jack crawled back into bed and patted the empty space beside her. Another flash of lightening was all it took for Nightlight to dive in after her, pulling the covers up over his head as though the might protect him. Jack felt a little guilty when she let herself chuckle at this, though Nightlight didn't seem offended by it. Probably because he was too preoccupied being terrified out of his mind. When Jack joined him under the covers, she couldn't help wishing for a flashlight. So many times she'd watched siblings crowd together in their beds to wait out a storm. One little boy from Burgess liked to pretend that his duvet was an impregnable fortress where he and his sister were safe from the evils of a story night. 

Perhaps it was all those years of observing others, but something about the situation had Jack experiencing and odd sense of deja vu. Her actions felt practiced, instinctual, familiar. But most of all, they felt….right. For once, Jack Frost knew exactly what she was meant to do. It was a nice feeling. 

By the time Nightlight had fallen asleep, the storm was nearly over. The last dregs of thunder were still rolling in the distance, but they could barely be heard over the soft patter of rain. 

 

 

As much as Jack enjoyed playing the roll of big sister, last night had left her feeling a bit unsettled. Something had seemed a bit off. By the next morning, as she watched a still sleeping Nightlight curl in on himself, arms wound tightly around his pillow, Jack thought she'd figured out why. 

"Hey, Kozmo?"

It was late in the afternoon. In just a few hours, the sun would go down, and Kozmotis would be out on the city, doing his late night rounds. for now though, Jack had the Captain to herself. Currently she was in the Captain's bed chamber, lounging on the sofa and admiring the fancy illustrations in one of his books (they were all written in strange characters she couldn't understand, not that it made a difference---Jack was illiterate). 

"Yes?" Kozmotis looked up from his desk. He'd been in the middle of writing a "very important letter". 

"Can I ask you something?"

Kozmotis stood up from his desk to join her on the sofa. "You may." 

Jack set the book down, handling it extra delicately. Kozmotis was quite fond of his books; he'd made that very clear on one occasion when she'd carelessly tossed one back onto the bookshelf after becoming bored with it.

"Well…" Jack was still debating wether something like this was appropriate to ask. "I was wondering….Nightlight, he doesn't have any parents does he?"

Kozmotis went quiet, his expression sobering. After a beat he said, "No. He doesn't."

Jack felt something in her chest grow tight, "Was it the Fearlings?"

Kozmotis nodded, saying nothing. 

Jack pursed her lips, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. Somehow, she'd known all along. It made sense, come to think of it. Not once had Nightlight ever mentioned his parents. For a long time Jack had never questioned it. It hadn't crossed her mind to wonder why a boy of eleven years old had never been seen with his mother or father. Jack shook her head, suddenly remembering all the time's she'd failed to take a hint. Nightlight had been so worried for her after that first attack. And then there was the Captain….the boy had been in tears then, uttering the words, "not again". Only now did Jack understand what he'd been referring to. 

"Jacklyn?"

Jack sighed heavily.

"It's just….I can't believe I never noticed before." She was smiling, but there was no joy in it. 

Jack looked up when Kozmotis touched her shoulder. He said nothing. He didn't need to. She looked into his eyes---golden, warm---and felt a bit of her sorrow slipping away. 

They stayed silent for some time after that. Jack pulled herself onto the Captain's lap resting the back of her head against his chest as long arms settled around her middle. 

Eventually, when the mood had lifted, Jack spoke up again. 

"Hey, Babe?"

"Hm?"

"I had another question, "Jack twisted around to face him, "And this is completely hypothetically---but say you were ever married---again, hypothetical---would you ever want to have kids?"

A pause. Kozmotis was giving her a very suspicious look, "Jacklyn…" 

"What?" She put her hands up defensively, "Hypothetical!"

There was a chuckle. Kozmotis was smiling, shaking his head, but saying nothing. Though, in this case the expression spoke for itself. (Hypothetical? Are you certain about that Miss Frost?)

"Well…" looking off into space, he seemed to be giving it a lot of thought, "I suppose I've always wanted to have a daughter, someone to call my Little Angel."

"Aren't I your 'Little Angel'?" Jack cooed, batting her eyelashes ever so sweetly. 

Kozmotis chuckled again, "I think Little Devil would be the more appropriate term for you. No, actually…." He seemed to be searching for the right word, "I think….I shall call you….'Dearest'. Would you like that?"

Jack considered this, then shrugged her shoulders, "I can roll with it." 

On that note, Jack shifted herself to a more comfortable position and went in for a kiss. 

Kozmotis had been gradually warming up to the strange practice that was kissing. Over the past few weeks, Jack had noticed some remarkable improvement on his part, though he was still no Valentine. Not yet anyway. Jack had yet to pull forth some of her more….advanced techniques for fear of scarring the naive young swain that was Kozmotis Pitchiner. Pacing herself had been a difficult thing to do at times, especially when certain opportunities made themselves so tantalizingly visible. That neck for example….Jack wondered what kind of sound the proud Captain might make if she sunk her teeth into that gorgeously thin neck of his. More than once she'd been almost tempted, only to reel herself in. 

Not just yet, she told herself. Not. Just. Yet. 

Today though, Jack was bored of the old fashion kiss on the lips. Today she thought she'd try something a little different, which was why, without a thought of asking permission, Jack let herself wander a little. She'd started with a the corner of his mouth, working a trail of kisses along the curve of his jaw. She took the lack of protest for a sign of encouragement. Following one of her stronger impulses, Jack was bold enough to nibble at shell of his ear. This was where she made her mistake. 

Something not unlike a squeak issued itself from the Captain. He flinched back, and Jack pulled away, leaving space between them. 

"Babe? You ok?"

She was cringing, already reeling from her own stupidity. In retrospect, ear biting---not such a smart idea. 

After a few moments of shocked silence, Kozmotis finally looked at her, face blank.

"Huh?"

He seemed very much dazed, tripping over his own sentense, "Um….I'm…that was…."

"A bit much?" Jack finished the thought for him. She then scrambled with an apology, "Listen, that was really dumb. I'm sorry, I won't ever do it again." 

Kozmotis gave a somewhat unreadable expression, "Oh…" he said, "Actually….I think I…." He was blushing again, looking away, "…enjoyed it." 

Jack had almost preformed a double take. She lingered on him for a bit longer, stunned, before a grin crept onto her face. 

Well…hot damn. 

"You uh…" Her eyes darted away for the briefest instant. Jack felt an odd mix of caution and enthusiasm. She lowered her voice, "You want me to do it again?" 

Komzmotis was silent, as if torn. Then he nodded, a tentative, almost guilty smile tugging at his lips.


	27. Chapter 27

Jack woke up the next morning in a bed that was not her own. She sat up, yawning as she stretched her arms in the air. One look around the room reminded her that she was still in the home of Kozmotis Pitchiner. As for the man in question, he was currently layed out on the sofa with his back to her, fully dressed, and fast asleep. Jack gave him a fond smile and fell back onto her (his) pillow with. It must have been early if even the Captain wasn't awake yet. 

Situations like this had slowly become the norm for Jack Frost. It had started a few weeks ago. That had been the first time she'd let herself fall asleep in the company of her dear Captain. Back then she'd woken up the next morning to find herself in her own room, having been carried back to her dormitory. More recently though, Jack was becoming quite familiar with waking up in the Captain's bed (though the Captain himself had yet to join her). As charming as she found it, Jack sometimes wished he were't such a goddamn gentleman. There was only so much old fashioned chivalry she could take. 

When falling back asleep proved itself impossible, Jack slid out of bed and tip toed to the sofa. 

"Oh Kozmo…." She sang, kneeling down and nudging his shoulder, "Wake up sleepy head."

There was a soft moan as Kozmotis stirred, though he didn't wake just yet. Jack shook him a little harder.

"C'mon man, you're burning daylight." 

That seem to do the trick. This time when Kozmotis stirred she heard a yawn from him. He twisted, looking at her over his shoulder and mumbling something along the lines of a morning greeting. He then made the mistake of turning over and effectively flipping himself onto the floor, having severely overestimated the amount of sofa space he had left. There was a thud. Jack only shook her head. It must have been an especially late night for him. He was usually so clear headed in the morning. 

Jack helped the still drowsy Captain onto his feet, resting a hand between his shoulder blades to keep him from tipping over. 

"You look half dead. What time did you get in last night?" Jack asked.

Kozmotis yawned again, rubbing one of his eyes, "Er….not sure. I think the sun was coming up." 

Jack rolled her eyes. One of these days Kozmotis Pitchiner was going to work himself to death. She just knew it. 

"Well…" she sighed, leaning into him as her arm looped around his waist, "It's still early. Why don't you and I take a little stroll? We haven't done that in a while." 

Kozmotis seemed to consider it, but only ended up shaking his head, "Perhaps a bit later, Dearest. I can hardly keep myself awake." As if to prove this point he yawned for a third time. 

Jack pouted momentarily, then grinned when an even better idea came to mind. "Well then," she slid her hand down his arm to his wrist, pulling him towards the bed. "Why don't you take a nap, poor thing."

Kozmotis was too tired to protest, letting himself be dragged along and crawling into the bed after her. With his back to her, Jack cuddled up behind him, nuzzling her face against his shoulder blade. With her arm draped over him, Jack could pull him just a little closer, fitting her knees against the bend in his legs. Spooning, she thinks it was called. 

Jack closed her eyes, content to fall asleep and spend the rest of the day like this. However they snapped open again when she heard a light tapping sound. When Jack looked up, she saw a little gold person in the window. He was waving. 

"JESUS SANDY!!!!"

Jack's gut reaction was to throw herself off of Kozmotis. This time, she was the one to fall out of bed (So it was contagious!). She imagined this must be what it felt like for human teenagers when their parents walked in on them doing not so innocent things. Not that she'd been doing anything. There was nothing wrong with cuddling, right? 

When Jack made it to the window she saw that the Sandman was trying very hard to stifle his (already silent) laughter. Oh so was this his idea of a prank? Sneaky little bastard. To add insult to injury, he entered the room with gold hearts swirling above his head.

"Oh would you stop!" Jack shout-whispered, giving the Sandman a playful shove. 

Sandy shrugged, seeming completely unapologetic. Despite herself Jack was grinning. She couldn't stay mad at sweet little old Sandy (you incurable prankster you!) As always, he meant well. And besides, in retrospect she would probably find this situation hilarious. 

The Sandman settled down beside a still sleeping Kozmotis and conjured a bit of dreamsand, casting it over his head. Jack almost chuckled when she saw it take the shape of what was conspicuously a man and a woman. They began to waltz, twirling about effortlessly. 

"Aren't you sweet." She said, pinching one of Sandy's cheeks, "You're gonna give him cavities." 

Sandy gave a proud grin in response.

When she felt comfortable, Jack sat down bedside the Sandman. He was weird little guy, but in a lovable way. 

It was a while longer before Kozmotis woke up. By that time it was nearly noon. The first sign was that he began to squirm around in his sleep. It was not long after this that he opened his eyes and sat up, yawing on final time. It took a few moments, but he finally realized that he had company.

"Miss Frost? Sandman!"

The latter of the two had been more of a surprise to Kozmotis. At first he looked overjoyed, but that quickly gave way to embarrassment when the vague memory of lying with Jack returned to him. Had Sandy seen them like that?

"Um….listen it's not what you think!" He stumbled, trying to explain himself, only for Sandy to wave a hand in dismissal.

No need to explain. You kids can do what you want. 

This didn't do much to comfort Kozmotis, who was already starting to blush, turning away slightly. Jack could have scolded him for being so childish. Instead she chuckled, turning his face to her as she leaned to kiss him. A soft pitter-patter told her that Sandy was clapping for them. 

When the kiss was broken, Jack saw an almost shocked look on the Captain's face. He stared at her, then looked to the Sandman, then looked back at her. 

Jack winked at him, "Relax. I think he's know about us for a while now anyway." 

Kozmotis blinked. 

"Oh." Was all he said. 

 

Later that day, Jack and Kozmotis went out for a walk on the Esplanade, only this time, Nightlight was with them. Lessons had been called off, for no particular reason other than that the Captain was too tired to bother with ordering his students around. Besides, it'd been quite some time since their last day off. He figured they must have earned it. 

Lately, having Nightlight around gave Jack a sense of nostalgia, though she couldn't understand why. Perhaps he reminded her of the children from Burgess she sometimes played with, even if none of them could see her. Her mind kept tracing back to that one boy, Jamie Bennett. As she remembered, he had been a little shy at times, just as Nightlight was. He was sweet too, just like Nightlight. When she thought about it, Jack found she missed Jamie, if only a little. He'd never been believed in her, but he'd come the closest, and for that she was grateful to him. It mad her sad to think that she'd probably never see him again. 

The three of them found a comfortable place in the shade and sat down together. Kozmotis with his back against the tree and Jack leaning against his one side as Nightlight leaned against the other. Jack was starting to wonder if this was what having a family felt like. To any passer by the might have appeared as one. The thought made Jack feel warm; happy. She'd wanted a family for such a long time; maybe MiM had finally given her one. 

By late afternoon, Nightlight had fallen asleep. Their positions had switched over the course of the day, and Now Nightlight was curled up next to Jack with his head on her lap. Every so often she would stroke his hair, smoothing bits of it behind his ears. It was at times like this, when Jack thought a bit too deeply, that she reminded herself of a very ugly fact. That her family was mortal. 

Mortals changed. 

Mortals grew. 

Mortals died. 

And when they died, they were gone forever. 

It wasn't until she felt Kozmotis reach over and brush the corner of her eye that Jack realized she was tearing up. She looked up from the boy, matching gold eyes with blue. She tried to fake a smile, but the tears had already given her away.

"Babe, I need to tell you something."

Jack dried her eyes on her sleeve, and when Kozmotis pressed a hand to her cheek, she leaned into it, closing her eyes. She didn't want to say it. She was afraid to. And in the end she couldn't. Saying something aloud meant admitting that it was real, and that was something she couldn't bring herself to do. When she opened her eyes again, Jack shook her head.

"Never mind. Forget it."

Because it was always easier to forget.


	28. Chapter 28

Jack had been having the same dream for almost a month. 

It started with a game of tag. Jack would wake and find herself surrounded by birch trees. Above was a clear blue sky; beneath her was a sheet of freshly laid snow, clean and white. She was alone; all was quiet but for the sound of a child's laughter ringing in the distance. It was never long before the boy appeared. Nightlight would step out from behind a tree, a playful smile on his face. He called to her, taking her hands in his and pulling her up from where she knelt in the snow. Together they ran and played. Jack reached for the boy only to miss him by a hair as he ducked out of her grasp, giggling all the while. Eventually she would lose sight of him, though she knew by his laughter that the boy was near. Jack searched for him, weaving through the maze of trees with a smile on her face. When at last she found him, it was in a clearing. Nightlight stood at the middle, arms at his sides, facing away. Here Jack lunged for him, but the moment her fingers touched the boy he vanished, as though he had never been. All around the trees began to wither, their forms twisting and breaking; falling to pieces. Jack stood alone and shuddered, overwhelmed by a strange feeling she knew not what to call. It was like sadness, but deeper. Only in the final moments of the dream did her legs give out. She fell for what seemed like an eternity as the snow, like ice, shattered beneath her. 

The first time she'd dreamt this, Jack had jerked awake, feeling breathless and afraid. That morning she'd gone in search of Nightlight, only to find him safe and sound. At the time, it had been comfort enough just to see his face, whole and unharmed. But the dream came again, and each time Jack woke with a sense of dread. She knew little of dreams, or their workings, yet the meaning was clear. For quite some time now Jack had been haunted by a single truth. She was an immortal, and where her friends and loved ones would grow old and die, she would remain the same. In a hundred years or so they would be gone and she would be alone again. These thoughts sickened her, and yet it had only grown harder and harder to keep them away. And now they had invaded her dreams, taunting her even as she slept. 

Perhaps the worst part was the uncertainty. Man kind was a fragile thing, and human beings were so easy to brake. It could happen suddenly, without warning. After all, there were so many ways to die. One might fall ill, or be swallowed by violent waters. There was simply no way of knowing. For all Jack knew she might wake one morning to find her loved one's had perished. Each night, her dreams reminded her of this. 

Tonight though, Jack would have a different sort of dream. 

It started with a hallway. Jack felt herself being led through darkness by the hand closed gently around her own. When at last they stepped into the light, Jack saw that her companion was a tall man with dark hair and golden eyes. She new this man. His name was Kozmotis Pitchiner, and he was smiling at her. 

Together they settled down onto something soft (a bed perhaps?). Never once did Kozmotis take his eyes off of her as she moved in closer to him, until their bodies were pressed together. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him as she pressed her face into the curve of his neck. Her hands slid down his back, fingers tracing along the ridges of his spine. When he kissed her, Jack tasted incense on his lips. In this world he was different. He was not bashful or timid; he did not blush and shy away. And when Jack sunk her teeth into the flesh of his color bone, he only drew her closer, planting kisses into her hair. 

Jack felt her fingers twitch. She starved for him. Her hands started to wander, running a course from his shoulders down the length of his arms. They slid past his hips, over his abdomen, coming to rest at the base of his collar where her fingers lingered over the metal clasps of his doublet. One by one she undid them, until the garment was left open. With it cast aside, her eyes fell on his bare chest. But before she could enjoy him, Jack noticed something very strange. There was spot of inky black poised over his heart, like a dark bruise. Jack paused, exchanging a glance with the man before her. He suddenly looked very afraid.

Driven by curiosity more than anything else, Jack moved her hand over the bruise. For a moment her fingers hovered there before pressing down. It was but a light tough, and yet Kozmotis gave a cry as though she had caused him terrible pain. He curled in on himself, hand pressed protectively over the bruise, but by then it was already too late. The mark was spreading, bleeding across his skin like ink. Shadows leapt from the walls, coiling themselves around his body, until they had all but consumed him. With the last of his strength, Kozmotis reached out, crying for help. Jack moved for him a second too late. Just before their finger touched, he vanished, slipping away into the darkness. 

When Jack woke, she was trembling. A glance to the window told her that it was still dark outside. She sat up and pressed her face into the palms of her hands, trying to clear her head. But this was useless; the dream was too fresh in her mind to be ignored. Still she could see the shadows writhing, latching themselves onto her Kozmotis, prying him from her arms. 

She shook her head, telling herself that it was a dream, a nightmare, and nothing more. And yet Jack felt a sickening dread tightening in the pit of her stomach. She though, I'm going to lose him. 

Over and over. 

I'm going to lose him. 

They're going to take him from me. 

Jack was out of bed that very second. An instant later she and her staff had taken off into the night. 

When she found the home of Kozmotis Pitchiner, Jack let herself in through the window. She called for him, but there was no answer. Jack searched, finding his bedroom empty. She did not panic yet, reminding herself that the Captain was probably still out on patrol. Soon enough, he would be home again, safe, and she would see that her dream had mislead her. And so she waited, hands twisting around her staff as she paced around then room. 

It was another hour before Kozmotis returned. Jack all but ambushed him. She dropped the staff, throwing her arms around his neck, face buried in his shoulder. 

Th Captain gasped, very much taken by surprised, though not unhappy to see her, "Jacklyn?"

His arms circled around her, "What are you you doing here at this hour…" the sentence died off when he felt how her body trembled. 

"Jacklyn," he cupped her face in his hands, "What's wrong?"

Jack wasn't sure how to explain.

"I….I had a nightmare." Was all she said for now. 

Saying it allowed, Jack suddenly realized how ridiculous she must have sounded. Nightmares weren't real, even children knew this. And yet when a child ran for the safety of sheltering arms, it was acceptable, because they were young, and there was so much in the world that was yet unexplained to them. It was not so for an adult. 

Ashamed, Jack hung her head, only to have her chin tilted gently upwards. As she lifted her head, she saw a kind smile on the Captain's face. 

"It's alright now." He kissed her forehead and pulled her close, guiding her head onto his shoulder, "It's over. You're safe now. "

Jack closed her eyes, sinking into the embrace. She wanted to stay like that forever; to be with him forever. As she held him tighter and tighter, Jack couldn't help feeling a sense of incredible loss. Or rather, she mourned a loss that had yet to come. There was no telling how long her time with Kozmotis would last. It could be a year; it could be fifty years. But no matter the timespan, it would never seem long enough. When it was over, Jack would have an eternity to look forward to. An eternity without Kozmotis Pitchiner. 

Jack pulled away, lifting onto the balls of her feet so that she could kiss him. He kissed her back, sliding his hand upwards to cradle her head. When the kiss was broken, Jack looked into his eyes and saw worry. Surely he must have noticed. He must have seen the bits of dread and melancholy she'd tried to hard to keep from him. 

"Babe," her voice was barely above a whisper, "Can I stay with you tonight?"

Kozmotis nodded, kissing her a second time, "As long as you like." 

When they laid down together, Jack curled into him, resting her head on his chest as he held her to him. This was how they stayed, side by side with their arms wound around one another.


	29. Chapter 29

Kozmotis was already awake by the time Jack opened her eyes. He was smiling down at her, one hand petting her hair, pausing occasionally to brush a lock of it from her face. 

"Good Morning, Dearest." 

Jack reached up and pulled his face down to meet hers.

"Morning."

She then nuzzled her face against his chest, though unfortunately there was still a layer of clothing getting between her and those rock hard pectorals. But no matter---Jack fixed the situation by sliding her hand beneath his blouse and running her fingers over the toned abdomen. This earned a shudder from him. Perhaps it was the cold. Or perhaps he'd simply never been touched in such a way before. Jack wondered that it might even be both. 

As she dragged her fingers along the ridge of his collarbone, Jack could swear she heard his heart rate quicken. She smiled, almost dangerously, thinking of all the things she'd yet to try with him. And there were oh so many. She was still counting the days until she'd have free reign with that neck of his. Perhaps this might even be the day. Who knew, maybe it was worth a try. 

Jack withdrew her hand, using it to support herself while she swung her legs around, straddling him. Jack watched as his expression changed slowly; he looked nervous, though not quite afraid. Mesmerized was perhaps a better word. Jack smirked, but reminded herself to be gentle. He'd never done anything like this before. 

Carefully, she pinned his hands at either side of his head, where he made no move to free them. When she leaned in, she first tested the waters, brushing her lips to the curve of his neck. He shuddered again, but did not struggle. This was her cue. Jack parted her lips and bit down lightly, just barely hard enough to leave a mark. This time, a small sound came from him; weak, feeble, but it drove Jack crazy. She could hardly believe how long she'd had to wait for this. It had never been so with the others. But then again, they had all been centuries old, and she had been but one in a long line of lovers. They had been practiced, but this one…this one was still young, still fresh. If she went too fast, she might bruise him. 

Jack could feel his hands as they reached up, fingers threading through her hair. Not a bad start, she thought, at least he wasn't turning her away and blushing like a school girl. 

Nope. Scratch that. He was most definitely blushing. Not that it was a problem. Jack found it adorable. 

It wasn't long before her hands started to wander south. They found their way beneath his blouse once more, this time squeezing down on his obliques before they slid even further, fingers digging into his narrow hips. Jack was almost amazed by his cooperation. She'd half been expecting him to shove her away, for he could be so easily overwhelmed. And so he was, only this time he seemed to welcomed it. For her part, Jack was all too happy to take over. And then, when he started to beg, Jack was ready to provide. She led her fingers to the rim of his pants and ever so slowly started to peel them away. 

But something stopped her. 

Between labored breaths, Jack heard a whisper.

"I want to marry you." 

Jack went stock still. What had he just said?

It had almost sounded like...

She sat up, "What did you just say?"

Kozmotis looked up at her. There was something in his eyes, though she couldn't quite place it. Was it ecstasy?

He took her hands in his and brought them to his chest. He looked into her eyes, almost pleadingly. 

"Jacklyn, Marry me." 

He'd said it clear, and yet there was still something Jack failed to grasp. She gave him a dumb look, "I'm sorry….what?"

Kozmotis pushed himself up onto his elbows, "Marry me." He said it a third time, "Be my wife." 

That time she'd definitely heard it. Jack felt the contents of her stomach ice over. 

Marriage. 

Why in hell hadn't she considered this earlier? Marriage was a near integral part of human life, and it was yet another item on the long long list of things that set humanity apart from the spiritual world. Because spirits simply didn't do marriage, at least, not in the same sense. Marriage implied permanence, commitment. Marriage (in the ideal sense) was eternity, and such a thing had no place in the immortal realm. Because the truth of the matter was that no two spirits could hope to swear such fidelity. A pair might bond for a time (a few decades; centuries in rare cases) but the bond was never eternal. Sooner or later, someone got bored. Sooner or later, someone else came along; someone new, and different, and exciting. And little by little, the bond faded. It was a disappointing truth, but hardly sad. In most, if not all cases, bonds were ended on mutual terms. Such had been the end of Jack and Valentine; Jack and Freyr; and all the rest. 

But humans were a little different. Humans didn't have the luxuries of eternity. They had only a short time on earth, and in that time they did things like get married and start families. And now Kozmotis wanted to do the same.

With Jack Frost.

With and Immortal. 

She shook her head, pulling herself off of him. 

"No. No, no, no. That is a BAD idea." 

Kozmotis made a face of utter betrayal, as though rejection had been a stab in the heart. Jack cringed; she probably could have phrased that a little better. 

"Listen, it's not that I don't…because I do…I mean…."---Dammit, nothing was coming out right---"It's not what you think!" 

Kozmotis looked defeated. He sat up, searching for some kind of explanation. "But….Jacklyn, I love you." 

Jack flinched. Three words. Three goddamn words was all it took to make her feel like a complete ass. 

"I know, Babe, I know." She lowered her voice, trying to sound soothing, "And I love you, too. But you don't want to marry me. I'm not…it wouldn't work." 

Kozmotis was shaking his head in disbelief. Jack thought she saw tears fighting their way to the surface. 

"I don't understand…" he placed his hand on hers, as though to anchor himself, "I'd be a good husband, I promise. I'll make you happy." 

Jack couldn't bear to look at him, at least not without tearing up. Every word he said was true, she knew it. If things were different, if Jack were human, she'd have jumped at the offer. But she wasn't human, and now Jack hated that fact more than ever. 

"Babe, there's something I have to tell you." Jack breathed deep, trying to ignore the way her throat clenched up, making it hard to breathe.

"I should have told you this when we first met but I…I don't know I just didn't think it would ever matter." 

Jack felt herself starting to well up. Her voice became heavier and heavier; her vision blurred.

"I'm not….I'm not human." 

Her eyes were starting to spill over now. She paused for a moment, drying them on her sleeve.

"Honestly, I don't know what the hell I am, but I'm not like you. I can't age. I've been around three hundred years and I haven't aged a goddamn day. And I can't die either. So…so a hundred years from now when you're gone, I'll still be here. You'll be gone, and I'll be here, and…" 

She couldn't finish that sentence, because at that moment Kozmotis turned her face to him and kissed her silent. Jack lost it then. Even when he broke the kiss and cupped her face, brushing the tears away, Jack couldn't stop crying. 

She choked, "I don't want you to die." And when Kozmotis leaned his forehead against hers, stroking her hair, Jack squeezed her eyes shut and said it again. "I don't want you to die."

He whispered, "Maybe I don't have to."

Jack opened her eyes again and gave him an incredulous look. 

"Maybe I'll cheat Death." His smile was bittersweet, "Maybe when he comes looking for me I'll kick him in the teeth and send him on his merry way. How does that sound?" 

Despite herself, Jack smiled. He was trying to comfort her. 

"I think you sound crazy." She chuckled weakly. 

"Perhaps I am." He grinned, "Why else would I want to marry you."

Here, her laugh was genuine, even if muddled with tears. 

"So what will it be." He took her hands a second time, squeezing them between his, "Jacklyn, My Dearest," he paused, as if to catch his breath, "Will you be my wife?"

She wanted to. Oh his she wanted to. 

"I…" 

Jack closed her eyes, shook her head, and threw caution to the wind. 

"Fuck it…"

Because Jack Frost was sick and tired of being alone. 

"Yes. Yes I will."


	30. Chapter 30

As it turned out, weddings were a very big deal. In the days preceding the event, the soon to be newly weds had quickly become the center of attention. Jack could hardly show her face in public without being swarmed by women and girls of all ages, besieging her with questions, suggestions, and friendly advice. Some of the older women tried to pull her aside and divulge the secrets of a happy marriage. Others told anecdotes that warned of marital tribulations. As for the younger girls, Jack found she had quite a few self proclaimed rivals who bemoaned the engagement of the fair Captain, but otherwise bore her no ill will. 

There were gifts as well; most of them simple, practical things. A tea set, a washboard, an apron, pots and pans, water buckets, sewing needles, garden seeds. And though Jack appreciated all this generosity, she couldn't help feeling a bit put off by the nature of these offerings. They were household things, pertaining to what she could only assume were meant to be "wifely duties". But cooking, cleaning, and general domesticity had never been among her areas of expertise. Jack had never had what could be considered a proper home. She'd spent the centuries as a nomad, wondering the continents with the wind at her back. If anything, she had more a talent in making messes than in cleaning them. And of course, a lifetime of stealing unattended lunches had done very little to cultivate her skills isn the kitchen. 

In fact, when she thought about it, just what skills did she have that didn't involve icing over ponds and frosting up windows? 

Some wife she was going to make….

As the day grew ever nearer, Jack found herself approached by all manner of would be professionals pleading to offer their services. The local seamstresses fought for her favor, regaling her with their finest dresses. Their efforts were dizzying; Jack could hardly take the time to appreciate one gown before it was practically torn off of her and replaced by another. She slipped in and out of skirts and corsets while cobblers and shoemakers had their way with her feet. She tried boots, sandals, slippers, high heels, flats, and even styles she'd neither seen nor heard of. 

With all the commotion, Jack could hardly get a word in edgewise. Keeping up with everything was like running a marathon ("Wow, you made this by hand? It's beautiful! Is that silk? Um hey, that's a bit tight, could you just….ah, that's better. Hey what about that one? Or maybe this one? I can't decide. Oh wait, lemme see that other one again! Is this embroidered?") And while Jack tried her best not to feel overwhelmed, doing so was near impossible with the entire female population of the city vying for her attention. 

But In all the madness, Jack found found some consolation in the knowledge that she was not to suffer alone. Kozmotis, whom she had seen little of since their betrothal, was facing his own breed of prenuptial insanity. Hardly an hour after their engagement was announced, the Captain had been swept off by a boisterous crowd of his fellow men for what Jack could only assume was some kind of bachelor hazing; like they did in college fraternities, only in this case she wouldn't have to worry about the poor man being duck taped to a telephone pole. 

Hopefully. 

 

On the eve of the wedding, Jack was put through a day of cleansing. Or in other words, she spent a good twelve hours being primed and pampered by handmaidens for the approaching festivities. In the morning they bathed her, and while Jack wasn't very accustomed to the concept of bubble baths (much less with a crowd of strangers huddled around her), she found the experience much to her liking. The water had been warm and oh so inviting. Jack had needed only to relax and enjoy the scent of exotic soaps as her handmaidens did all the work. They washed and braided her hair; they scrubbed her arms and legs; they even scraped the dirt from under her nails. By the time they were finished, Jack felt as fresh as the day she'd first risen from the ice. 

It was a nice feeling. 

That night, for what she hoped would the very last time, Jack slept alone. In less than twenty four hours she would be someone's wife. Her bed, her home, her name; she would share these things with the man she called husband. It was almost daunting when she thought about it this way. Marriage was no small thing to a mortal, and while it meant companionship, it also meant sacrifice. If she married Kozmotis, Jack Frost would no longer be…well, Jack Frost. She would be Jacklyn Pitchiner, and when she reminded herself of this, Jack couldn't help but feel the slightest doubt clawing at her. In some ways, to marry Kozmotis would be to renounce her freedom. As a wife (and perhaps someday a mother) Jack would no longer have the liberty of living life one whim to the next. It would mean consistency, monotony even…

And yet, it would also mean kinship, family, acceptance. It would mean a safe home and loved ones. And for this reason, Jack could rest easy. 

She had made her choice. She had no regrets. 

 

It was tradition that a bride wear shades of red on her wedding day. Red symbolized a good many things. Red was for good health and longevity. Red was for prosperity, luck, and (*ahem*) fertility. And of course, last but not least, Red was for love. In all honesty, Jack had never been fond of the color (not when it came to her own wardrobe), but for tradition's sake she would make an exception. The gown was pure silk; a solid rose red trimmed and garnished by accents of gold. Upon her head was placed a wreath of yellow blossoms. Maiden Flowers, they were called; a sign for innocence and beauty. 

For all the commotion of preparations, the wedding itself turned out to be a modest affair. The couple and their closest relations (in this case, Nighlight, Sandy, and a few of their fellow soldiers) gathered in a little temple whose dome was open to the sky. Here, at exactly midnight, Jack and Kozmotis were wed beneath the moon, as was the custom. It was a simple service (no priest; no procession) but Jack didn't mind. She needed neither fuss nor fanfare nor the approval of strangers. 

To speak their vows, bride and groom joined hands, and looked upon one another. Their oath was a simple one, promising faith and fidelity for the years to come. When all was said, they shared a kiss and turned to their love ones, no longer as student an teacher, but as husband and wife. There was applause; Nightlight was smiling and Sandy, who sat beside him, whipped a single gold tear from the corner of his eye. Jack could hardly blame him. She was almost in tears herself, and when she looked from the corner of her eye, she saw that the very same was true of Kozmotis, only, he wasn't quite as good at hiding it. 

Side by side the newly weds made their way out onto the street. A small gathering awaited them; people cheered, tossing flower pedals and apple seeds at their feet, sending with them the blessings of good health and happiness. Here, Jack plucked the yellow wreath from her head and sent it into the crowd, where one girl managed to snatch it out of the air. She held it high, gave a squeal of triumph, and then set about dividing each flower among her friends and sisters, thus was the custom, for a flower from the bridal wreath was said to bring luck. 

 

Having said their vows, the newly weds had one final step in "validating" their union. Consummation was the proper word, though Jack knew of a few more colorful terms when it came to this particular act. She was no stranger to it, having three hundred years experience and quite a few long term relationships under her belt. But as for her husband….Jack could safely say that Mr. Kozmotis Pitchiner had yet a great deal of learning ahead of him. And while Jack had done her best to prepare him, his "education" (so to speak) would officially begin tonight.

In all honestly, Jack had probably been anticipating this moment far longer then she'd like to admit. Thought she could not recall the exact day, Jack had some vague idea of when her meaningless flirtation had delved into something a bit more significant. It was not long after this that she first began to have thoughts. Or, more specifically, thoughts of what Kozmotis Pitchiner might look like when freed of his proud doublet. Or perhaps, thoughts of where he might best enjoy her touch. At times, she might restrain herself ("Now, c'mon Jackie, getting a bit ahead of yourself there, don't you think?") But now, she had no need to do so. In his vows, he had given himself to her, happily and willingly, and in return she would provide all that his prudishness had kept from him. She would be gentle, and care for him; and just maybe, if she was patient, he would learn to reciprocate. In a few years or so. 

Once they had arrived at their marriage bed, Jack though of where best to begin. She supposed it could start as it always had, with a kiss on the lips. She did this, lifting onto the balls of her feet and sliding her arms around his neck. Jack was not unwilling to take her time. It was several moments before she moved her lips to brush against his jawline, shifting then to follow the curve of his neck. Jack bit down, and when she pulled away, she left a ring of red against his skin. 

Jack stopped to look into his eyes. She saw a great deal there, but most of all, behind muddled feelings of wonder and elation, Jack saw fear. Fear not of her, but rather, a fear that he might disappoint. Because even Kozmotis, however naive, realized what was now expected of him. The question was, did he have it in him? 

Jack softened her smile, taking his hands between her own. She understood his fear; she'd felt it once, though it had been centuries ago, back when the spirit world was still new to her. Her first had been a fellow winter sprite, much older and wiser than herself. But he had been caring, and playful too, and though their bond had long since ended, she remained grateful to him. He had made her happy then, and tonight she hoped to do the same for another. 

With a gentle tug, Jack lead Kozmotis to their bed. They set down together, but where Jack felt the freedom to lounge, draping herself over the pillows, Kozmotis seemed far too anxious. He sat upright, looking down as though already ashamed, as he would surely be if he proved himself impotent on his own wedding night. Jack let herself chuckle softly as she sat up, reached over, and turned his face to her. She smiled at him, and he smiled weakly back. 

"It's alright." Jack whispered, "I'll show you." 

Kozmotis seemed to find encouragement in this, however slight. He nodded, trying to widen his smile and show what meagre confidence he had in himself. Jack placed a kiss on his forehead to reassure him before stepping off of the bed. She kicked off her slippers and shed her gown, beneath which was a thin white underdress. She would leave this on for now. No need to rush things. When she joined her husband again, she placed her hand on his and found that he was trembling, fighting the urge to look away. Even now, when they were married, he was still so painfully demure. But Jack didn't mind. Given the time, she would cure him of this. 

She reached for his doublet, the same red and gold as her gown. Jack felt his hand tighten around hers. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. Preparing. Jack wanted so badly to kiss the shyness right out of him, but she would have to be patient. She took her time, clasp by clasp, until the garment was left open. She slid it from his shoulders, but paused when she noted the dark ring on his shoulder. It was no ordinary scar, but it a Fearling's mark, and very unpleasant reminder. Jack swallowed, feeling a sense of deja vu. It was here that she remembered the dream. She sighed. 

Kozmotis must have known what she was thinking then, because he opened his eyes and placed his own hand over the scar.

"It doesn't hurt. I promise." 

For now, it was reassurance enough. 

When they laid down, Jack moved her hand to back of his neck, guiding him. He was beneath her now, looking up at her with a kind of nervous awe; anxious, but willing. For her part, Jack smiled, and tried to be gentle. She kissed him again, bearing down on him while her hands explored the scape of his torso. As she went deeper, she allowed one of them travel the length of his leg, dragging from the hip to the thigh, and over the knee. There was yet a layer of leather spread over the skin of his lower half, and for now, she would leave it. No need to rush. 

Jack sat up, taking a moment's pause to unlace her braid, tossing her head so that silver hair draped itself across her shoulders. Then without further hesitation, she shed the last layer of her clothing, pulling the underdress up over her head. Again Kozmotis averted his eyes, and again Jack turned his face to her, placing a kiss on his nose. 

She whispered, "You're allowed to look, you know." 

He nodded, though his eyes never wondered from hers. 

This time, when Jack pressed down on him, he gave a full body shudder. He looked terrified, and yet, when she came close to him, Kozmotis slid his arms around her; an invitation to proceed. He closed his eyes again, relaxing into mattress when their lips met. For a long time, this was how they stayed, until finally Jack felt she could go further. She moved her hand downward, plucking at the laces of his trousers. 

It was about time those things came off.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hnnnnnnng I'm sorry it took so long!!! Been a hectic two weeks, plus writers block. BUT I'M BACK. 
> 
> ;___; hope it was worth the wait

The first few months of married life turned out to be a confusing time for Jack Frost. For one thing, she wasn't Jack Frost anymore. She was now Misses Kozmotis Pitchiner, wife and former apprentice of the respected Captain. At first, Jack hadn't given much though as to the implications (and expectations) of her new title. And while she'd been correct in the assumption that marriage would alter certain aspects of her life, she'd been somewhat (if not grossly) underprepared. Firstly, her new name had taken a bit of getting used to. Since her arrival, Jack had been reffered to publicly as merely Miss Frost, or sometimes Jacklyn. But now she would head in to town and hear shouts of "Good Morning, Misses Pitchiner", or "Lovely day isn't it, Misses Pitchiner?" For a while it'd felt strange, even more so when she considered the fact that she was no longer to be called by her maiden name. That meant no more Jack Frost. 

It was actually a little depressing.

And yet it was a small price to pay. Before long, Jack found that her new station came with quite a few perks. Not surprisingly, marriage was a right of passage in this particular society. Having joined the ranks of the espoused, Jack enjoyed a new level of respect from her fellow denizens. Young men who had once tried to court her now kept their distance, tipping their hats and bidding her only polite greetings. They bowed to her, some even called her "Lady Pitchiner", or if they considered themselves more familiar, "Lady Jacklyn". She had also noticed considerable change in the ladies. Older women who'd frowned upon and scolded her for "unladylike habits" now held their tongues and smiled. As for those who'd been a bit more accepting, Jack was quickly learning to see them less as distant acquaintances and more as friends. Nowadays, if she passed by, they would call her over for a friendly chat. They laughed at her jokes, and gave little housekeeping tips here and there. And while Jack had no interest whatsoever in domesticity, she could still appreciate the advice. They were only trying to be helpful. 

As it turned out, Jack's utter lack of home economics proved to be of no concern. As luck would have it, fourteen years or so of virtual independence had made the Captain quite capable of caring for himself. He cooked, he cleaned (almost compulsively so) and was generally capable when it came to matters of housewifery. Jack could not be more grateful for this, as her first (and last) venture into the culinary arts had proven disastrous. Not only had the final result been wholly inedible, she'd very nearly set the house on fire in the process. And as for her organization skills, they were….non-existant. 

In short: Jack didn't know the first thing about housework, and thanks to her new husband, she didn't need to. 

Where Kozmotis took the charge over domestic affairs, Jack had taken the reins….elsewhere. Even as a married man, the Captain had so little confidence when it came to certain activities. Jack of course had no problem whatsoever in filling the gaps. 

Probably the best part of being married to the Captain (other than bedroom perks) was the privileges Jack now enjoyed in terms of her military service. She was no longer an apprentice, and while Kozmotis had tried (though halfheartedly) at convincing her to retire from the royal guard, Jack had insisted otherwise. Not long after the wedding she'd been promoted. As of now she was a full fledged soldier, charged with the duty of defending her home from all who might threaten it. While she still spent her days sparing with the boy apprentice, her nights were to be spent with Kozmotis, patrolling the city together. Jack could not have asked for a more perfect arrangement. 

Months passed, and before long the sweltering head of summer had given way to the chill of autumn. For the first time in her three hundred years, life seemed perfect. Each day, Jack was surrounded by friends, and each night she went home to a loving husband. There was no sign of the Fearlings, not since the attack almost a year ago. Perhaps she'd scared them off, of perhaps it the was the continued presence of the Sandman which kept them at bay. Either or, Jack could not say she missed the foul devils. In one horrid night they had nearly destroyed everything, and now they were gone. Hopefully for good. The panic had died down, the city was at peace, and people were happy. Jack was happy.

And yet, there was one little thing missing. 

For quite some time, Jack had given no thought to the prospect of children. But somewhere down the line , she started get a little…curious. At times she'd catch herself dreaming up little images in her head. Images of a dark haired young boy with frosty blue eyes. Or perhaps a girl, with snow white hair and eyes like hear father's. She thought about names. Katherine, if it be a girl, and Emile, should it be a boy. Jack had always loved the name Emile, though she'd never really known why. 

It wasn't long before these daytime fantasies found their way into her dreams, courtesy of Sandy no doubt. She'd dream of little Emile lolloping after his father, toy sword in hand, slaying imaginary monsters. Or sometimes she'd see herself, playing in the snow with young Katherine, building forts and making snow angels. 

At first Jack had been a little embarrassed of all this. She'd only been married a short while, it was much too soon to be thinking about children. Wasn't it? 

A few times she tried mentioning the idea to Kozmotis, only to second guess herself and change the subject. Then one day, after much deliberation, Jack had finally turned to her husband and said:

"Babe?"

"Yes, Dearest?"

"I want a kid." 

In response he'd kissed her deeply. 

She took that for a sign of approval. 

Thus began one of the more peculiar periods of Jack's life.

The first thing she noticed was her appetite. Jack had never felt true hunger before. She liked food, enjoyed food, but had never needed it. That was until the pregnancy. At first there hadn't been much change. But suddenly, Jack found her self struck by unbearable cravings. She was ravenous, nearly constantly, and while Kozmotis was more than happy to supply anything and everything she asked for (to the best of his ability) he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer quantities this woman consumed. And while Jack had sometimes heard the expression "eating for two", she thought that in her case it might be more accurate to say, "eating for two while compensating for three centuries worth of fasting". 

There were significant physical changes as well. Subtle at first, but more and more noticeable by the day. Jack found that as the weeks passed, her body grew rounder in various places. Her breast swelled, her hips widened, and her boyish edges softened to feminine curves. She was taller now, and her hair had grown to hang like a silver sheet, tips touching the small of her back. Sometimes she braided it, but most often it was left to drape freely over her shoulders. Kozmotis had often said he liked it best that way, for it made her seem wild and strong, and he loved that in her. 

Less than pleasant were the mood swings. As the months drew on, there had been aches and pains, but they were nothing compared to the whiplash of her turbulent emotions. One minute, all was well, and the next, life was suddenly an enormous mess. Jack grew irritable at times, unleashing her wrath upon her husband (who could do little but cower and try his best to appease her). At these moments, the North Wind would stir, crashing down on their little city with heaps and heaps of snow. It certainly didn't help that maternity leave had left her with so much pent up energy and no way to dispel it. She'd been relieved of patrol for the time being, and wasn't allowed anywhere near a weapon, on the off chance that she have herself a little accident. She was grounded, forbidden from flying, as Kozmotis harbored the fear that in her state (powers erratic as they were) she might be given to drop out of the sky at any moment and fall to her death. 

And that was the least of his worries. 

Since she'd first told him of the pregnancy, Jack's husband had been somewhat of a nervous wreck, torn between the elation and excitement of fatherhood and the abject terror that something might go horribly wrong. What if something unforeseeable happened? What if there was an accident? What if the Fearlings came back! There was only so much reassuring Jack could do before she had to give up and the leave the poor man to his self imposed misery. 

When the child finally came, it was Kozmotis who named her. Seraphina, she was called. It had been his mother's name. Jack swore she could see tears when he first laid eyes on the girl. Even as he took her in his arms he was trembling, fighting back a sob of joy.

The midwives had all gathered around to see the child. She was a tiny, pale thing, and yet there was a healthy pink glow upon her cheeks. Her bright eyes were a curiosity, for one was green (as her father's had once been), while the other was blue. No one had ever seen such a thing before, but they chose to think of it as a good omen. Blue eyes meant beauty, while green was thought to foretell a clever mind. Beauty and brains---not a bad combination. 

Nightlight and Sandy had been present for the birth as well. For all that the Sandman was a picture of utter calm, Nightlight was almost as worked up as the lucky father himself. He'd never seen a new born baby, let alone held one. And so when the tiny thing was placed in his arms, Nightlight couldn't help but feel a weight of responsibility fall upon his shoulders. But….it was a pleasant feeling, like that of a brother, seeing his baby sister for the very first time. He smiled at the girl, and felt something almost like a flutter in his belly when she smiled back. 

When it was Sandy's turn to hold the child, Nightlight was almost reluctant to let her go. He'd wished to hold her for just a bit longer. She was so warm and soft and…special in a way he couldn't quite describe. 

Sandy cradled the girl with all the skill of a practiced parent. It made sense in Jack's mind. Sandy was a Guardian, caring for children was the soul of his existence. She would not be surprised if he'd held many a newborn in his time. 

As the child drifted off to sleep, a bit of Dreamsand wafted it's way above her head. Newborn Dreams were simple things. A child so young knew nothing of the world and it's wonders; what soothed them was the memory of a dark, warm place, tucked inside their mother's belly. They were more memories than dreams, but beautiful none the less. 

 

 

Even in infancy, Seraphina was every bit the wily spirit her mother was. She loved to fuss and, squirm, and slip away when no one was looking. Sometimes they would find her wedged in behind the furniture, exploring the deepest, darkest crevasses of this wondrous new home she'd been brought into. Kozmotis would scold her gently, only to melt once more when the babe looked up into his eyes and cooed.

She was a vocal child. Her first words came to her at only several months old and once she'd learned them, she would boast them proudly as she tumbled about the home, chasing dust bunnies and little insects. As she grew, one of her favorite pastimes was to play with the manager of glittering Dreamsand creatures Sandy conjured up for her. He was especially creative when it came to Seraphina's daydreams. There were magnificent dragons, prancing centaurs, frolicking stags, and a host of creatures Jack had neither seen more heard of. But as wondrous as these creatures were, it was always the butterflies Seraphina liked best. She would chase after them for hours, tring her very best to catch them. Sometimes, she came close, creeping up on one as it rested its wings. But ever elusive, the butterflies would flutter through her fingers, and the chase would begin again. 

Often, Seraphina would find herself in the care of Nightlight, whom she had come to recognize as "Big Brother". Though he was still young, Nightlight was a mature and responsible boy. Jack and Kozmotis could trust him to care for the girl at times when their duties to the city called them away from home. They were never gone long, and when they returned, the boy was always welcome to spend the night, should he wish to. Most times, he would politely decline, not wanting to intrude, but occasionally they could talk him into joining them for dinner, if not stay the night. 

By her second birthday, Seraphina had grown a thick head of dark hair, just like her father's. The locks fell in curves, framing her pale and pudgy face. Already Kozmotis had begun to spoil the child; he bough her dolls and pretty dresses. Whenever he could, he spent hours doting on her with all manner of fatherly affections. Sometimes they played games, sometimes he told her stories. Seraphina loved all her father's stories, but there was one in particular she liked to hear best. It was the story of a young swordsman and his lady friend. The lady was foolhardy and rash, with a bold mind and wild way. But at the heart, she was good natured and pure, and In the end it was she who saved the day, slaying demons and brining peace to a troubled land.

Each night, without faith, Jack and her husband were at the girl's bedside to bid her sweet dreams. Sometimes, if Seraphina wished it, Kozmotis would hum a lullaby. It was always the same tune, one his mother had taught him when he was very young, though he could never recall the words. Once the child was fast asleep, husband and wife were off to their own bed. With times at peace, the need for midnight patrols had lessened. Jack was certainly thankful for this. She had so missed having a nice warm body to curl up against when she shut her eyes to sleep. 

 

One night, something terrible happened.

It was nearing midnight when Jack woke to the sound of a crash. Her eyes snapped open, she jolted upright, instantly alert. It was dark. She could just barely see the outline of her husband lying beside her. He was still asleep, though she could tell from the way he shift, brows creased, that the sound had nearly stirred him. Jack lend down, nudging his shoulder. 

"Babe…Babe wake up. I think I heard---"

Jack never finished her sentence. She hadn't needed to, because at that moment a shriek ripped through the house. 

"MOMMY! DADDY!"

Kozmotis was on his feet that very instant, and a second later had snatched up his rapier. He bolted, and Jack was fast on his heels, staff in hand, as they hurried into Seraphina's room. What they saw there horrified them. Hovering just above their daughter's bed, back arched, teeth bared, was a twisted creature with skin like black tar. Beneath was Seraphina, shuddering as she hid herself beneath the covers as though they might shield her from harm. 

Jack felt a shock of revulsion when she laid eyes on the creature. She knew in that very instant what it was. 

A Fearling. There was a Fearling in her home, and it had come for her child. 

Kozmotis was the first to act. He stepped forward, blade at the ready, but before he could strike, the creature turned it's horrible stare upon him. As though stricken, Kozmotis went rigid still, back stiffening. With a clattering his rapier hit the floor. He trembled for a moment, and then, with a strangled cry, he dropped to his knees, one hand pressed over the scar on his shoulder. 

Jack's first instinct was to go to him, but she had no time for that now. Now, she had to protect her child. 

With a cry of her own, Jack lunged forward, swinging wildly at the vile creature that would dare harm her loved ones. Her aim was true, and when the blow struck, she felt the shock of resistance shudder through her weapon as the beast was sent crashing into the nearest wall, toppling a fightable as it went. It equaled in pain and protest, but before the creature could bring itself up again, Jack was already upon it. She snatched up the fallen rapier and jammed it clean through the Fearling's skull, eating a satisfying wet crunch. The creature shrieked madly, thrashing and clawing in it's final death throws before it's body fell limp. When she was cure the beast was dead, Jack pried the rapier unceremoniously from the creature's head, taking a moment to revel in triumphant hatred. 

With the threat gone, Jack felt a tiny body pressing itself against her leg. She looked down to see Seraphina, face buried in her night dress as she shrieked and sobbed. Jack knelt down, arms wrapping themselves around the child and pulling her close.

"Shoosh, it's alright. Mommy's here. Mommy's here." 

She stroked the girls hair, closing her arms more tightly around the tiny frame. If they'd been just a second too late, Seraphina may have been lost. The thought alone rattled her; she couldn't bear to think of what it'd be like to lose her beloved child. It was a pain she'd never known, and hopefully never would. 

As Seraphina began to calm, Jack looked over at where Kozmotis was still hunched over on his knees, eyes squeezed shut as he panted, gritting his teeth against the horrible pain in his shoulder. 

"Babe?"

There was no answer. 

Jack felt an old familiar dread, one she had not felt for almost two years. Her eyes fell upon his shoulder, where his hand still rested upon the scar that caused him to suffer so. She though back to the day he'd been given that scar, the day she'd nearly lost him. Jack felt ill as panic began to writhe in the pit of her stomach. 

Not again. Please, please, please, not again. 

"Babe, can you hear me?"

This time, he managed to respond. 

"Jacklyn…" his voice was hoarse, heavy, breathless. That was all he said before taking a deep, shaky breath. He was trying so hard no scream, Jack could see it in the way he trembled, jaw clenched, body stiff. He looked ill; he looked paler, and already there was a sheen of sweat upon his forehead. 

Jack heard a whimper from the child in her arms.

"Daddy! Mommy, what's wrong with Daddy?"

Jack hushed her again, assuring the child that all would be well. If only she could reassure herself so easily. 

Jack stepped forward, gesturing for Seraphina to stay put, just in case…..well, just in case. Reluctantly, the girl did so, whipping her still puffy eyes on her sleeve. 

Jack approached her husband slowly, kneeling beside him. She put a hand on his shoulder; the warmth had gone from his skin. Jack felt a lump welling in her throat as she leaned in a bit closer, gently reaching to turn his face to her. She felt a chill run through her veins when she looked into his eyes. They were no longer gold, but pale, steely silver. Jack swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very unnerved, but the sensation faded when she felt a hand come up to touch hers. Kozmotis smiled weakly, but reassuringly.

"I'm….I'm alright." He panted. "Don't know what….came over me…." 

Jack thought she had a feeling, though she'd rather not think about that now. Right now she just wanted to enjoy the fact that her family was safe, at least for the time being, though if not entirely unharmed. 

"Daddy?"

Both heads turned to Seraphina. She stood watching them, sniffling and uncertain as she wrung her hands in her nightdress. Kozmotis skilled his warmest, extending a hand to her.

"Come here," he said, and Seraphina scurried over to him, throwing her arms around his neck. She started to sob again; Kozmotis threaded his fingers into her dark hair and whispered soothingly to her, "I'm all right. Everything's alright." 

Jack smiled, but behind it was a sinking dread. She had a feeling that in fact everything was not "Alright". 

The Fearlings had returned. 

The peace had ended.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow....this took me forever to do. I'll admit there was a bad combination of writer's block, art, school work, and downright laziness, but I finally did it. We're in the home stretch people. Just two or more chapters to go. Hopefully it won't take me over a month to get those done.

The attack was only the first of many. When word spread of the Fearling resurgence, it was not long before unease settled over the city. No household was safe, that much was proven in the weeks that followed. People were going missing at a steadily growing rate that lacked any rhyme, reason, or discrimination. From young children to the elderly, the Fearlings' seemed to make no preference when it came time to hunt.

Before long, unease became panic. Having quickly lost faith in the strength of the military, people had begun taking matters into their own hands. But their efforts were futile. The Fearlings had grown stronger in their absence; if the wall could not keep them out, then what good were salt rings and paper talismans? 

Under the circumstances, it was only natural that drastic measures be taken. The royal guard sought to increase its rank by recruiting apprentices as full time soldiers. Nightlight was among them. Now a boy of fourteen, he was no longer to spend his days practicing sword play. He was a man now, and like all other men he would be given a real sword, one meant for shedding blood. 

Nightlight almost shuddered when he held his rapier for the first time. He'd never killed anything before, and he wasn't entirely sure he ever wanted to. But he was a soldier now, and as a soldier his duties were to protect, even if it meant killing. Only, he supposed he shouldn't feel too apprehensive about it all. He would only be killing Fearlings, monsters; abhorrent creatures who deserved to die. 

The first night of patrol was probably the most frightening. It was winter, and it was cold. He shivered, fighting the urge to curl in on himself. He would need to stay loose and ready, in case there was any danger. 

Walking side by side with him was the Captain, and beside him was another man; a soldier with a young face who, Nightlight recognized as another former apprentice. He had met this young man only a few times before; from what he remembered, he was very friendly, but somewhat shy, like himself. It was upon his own insistence that the Captain had joined them tonight. He seemed to think it inappropriate to send two novices out alone on their first night of patrol. 

Nightlight wasn't sure how to feel about that. While he was grateful at having a more experienced soldier present, he felt some unease considering the Captain's history with Fearlings. Miss Jacklyn had described the night of the attack some weeks ago; apparently being in the mere presence of a Fearling had caused the Captain terrible pain. But of course, the Captain had insisted on continuing his work. Nightlight wasn't sure if that counted as courage or just plain stubbornness, but he respected him for it. 

The first few nights of patrol had gone smoothly enough. There was no sign of a Fearling, unless you counted that hideous feeling of being watched. More than once Nightlight had spun around at the sensation of something breathing cold air down his neck. Of course, nothing was ever there. Nothing that he could see anyway. 

Whenever this happened, the Captain would give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

"Feeling alright?" he'd ask.

Nightlight would usually nod, forcing a smile, not that his mentor was ever convinced. He had a way of sensing when people were afraid, though that probably came with years of experience in the territory of hunting down the unholy incarnations of fear. 

It was around the tenth night when things started to go a bit awry. It was the night they spotted their first Fearling in a couple of weeks. It was a far grizzlier sight than Nightlight had been expecting. 

There was only one of them, but my god was that thing enormous. It came in the shape of a hound, assuming a hound could be made of bones and tar. In the absence of hair was leathery, uneven skin which was thicker in some places and thinner in others. Where the coat was eroded, Nightlight could see bits and pieces of a coal-black skeleton. 

But as ugly as the thing was, nothing compared to the smell. It smelled of soot and decay; a pungent, acrid odor which set the boy's nostrils ablaze and turned his stomach. At one point he felt ready to vomit. He lurched, covering his mouth with his hand, but by then it was too late. Nightlight had made only the tiniest of sounds, but it had been loud enough for the creature to hear. It lifted it's head and began sniffing the air. If the rumors were true, then it was not the scent of humans that the beast sought, but the much more potent scent of fear. And there was plenty of it in the air that night. 

Before the beast had the chance to find them, the Captain took matters into his own hands. He knelt down slowly, careful not to rustle the nearby foliage, and picked up a sizable rock, about the size of a fist. Carefully he took aim, at first Nightlight though he meant to get the Fearling's attention by hitting it, but instead, when the rock was flung, it landed in the bushes to the far left of them. There was a loud rustle, and like any hunter, the Fearling lunged toward it. 

In the split second while the beast was distracted, the Captain jumped into action. He drew his sword, thrusting with all his might just as the Fearling turned to face him. There was a wet thud as the rapier drove deep through the creature's left eye socket and into it's skull. It suffered only a moment of pain, tossing it's head violently, before it fell over dead. 

Nightlight was stunned, the same went for his fellow novice; both had remained in their hiding place, watching open mouthed as the Captain felled his gruesome enemy. And here, Nightlight was torn between amazement and concern. He was more than impressed by the Captain's skill, and yet what worried him was what happened after the beast had fallen. Kozmotis Pitchiner was in peak physical condition, and so it made little sense that a quick burst of movement would leave him utterly breathless, as though he'd just run a marathon. 

His concern growing, Nightlight moved in a bit closer. It was then that he noticed the Captain was clutching at his shoulder….where his scar was. 

Nightlight felt something twist in the pit of his stomach when he remembered what Miss Jacklyn had told him about the night of the attack. 

"Sir?" He said, voice trembling, "Maybe you ought not do this anymore." 

The Captain gave him a confused, almost insulted look. 

"It's just…" his voice was almost a whisper, "I think being around the Fearlings is making you hurt, Sir. It's not good for you." 

The Captain straightened himself, one foot pressing down on the Fearling's skull as he yanked the rapier free from it's eye socket. 

"It's not good for anybody." He said, "I'll be fine." 

Nightlight wanted to protest, but couldn't find the right words, and so he kept silent. 

 

 

Despite these dark times, Nightlight still had the occasional joys. The best of these were the frequent visits to the Pitchiner household. The Pitchiners had often said that their home was open to him, and that he may stop by any time he liked, and he did, whenever possible. 

Their home was an inviting place. It was much larger than the dormitory he was used to; the ceiling was higher, and the rooms were tastefully decorated with simple, elegant , dark-wood furniture. And though it was sometimes drafty there, Nightlight could not help feeling warmed simply by stepping over the threshold. 

On most days, he would find Miss Jacklyn and Seraphina playing together. Often it was a game of hide and seek, though Miss Jacklyn seemed to have a special love for charades. She was better at it than the rest of them, naturally, though occasionally she'd stop herself mid game, having just remembered that the subject she meant to describe "hadn't been invented yet". Seraphina always got a big kick out of that. She loved her mother's imagination. 

Weather permitting, one of Nightlight's favorite pastimes was a simple game of tag. He was a fast runner, but so was Miss Jacklyn (it certainly didn't help that she could flit through the air). 

On stormy days, Jacklyn liked to tell ghost stories. But it was never as simple as merely telling the story, she had to act it out as well. She would shut the curtains, blowing out all the candles but one, which she kept poised in her lap, casting an wary orange glow upon her face. Seraphina would cling onto Nightlight for the scarier parts, her eyes wide with the thrill of the story. When it came time for the big climax, Jacklyn always took a dramatic pause. Then, at the last moment, she'd blow out the candle and pounce, tickling her poor victims into submission. 

One of the things Nightlight loved best was they way Miss Jacklyn kissed him goodnight just before he went off for patrol with the Captain. It was always the same, simple peck on the cheek, as a mother might kiss her child. 

Nightlight found it almost strange that he could think of her that way (gentle, motherly) considering where they'd been only three years ago. Then they had been equals; two apprentices of the same master. But Jacklyn had grown quickly, in ways he could not hope to match. Though at heart she hadn't changed much (she was still every bit the playful tomboy she'd been them) there was an edge of maturity to her now. She seemed so much older and calmer, inside and out, than the wily young lady who'd once acted so mischievously and poked fun at the Captain behind his back. 

On this particularly night, Jacklyn gave him an especially tight hug. 

"Be a good boy and keep an eye on him will you." She whispered; Nightlight knew she was referring to the Captain. "Make sure he doesn't over do it." 

Nightlight nodded, hugging her back. He wished he didn't have to go away like this, even if it was only for a night. He wished he could spend more time with Miss Jacklyn and Seraphina, playing, laughing, and staying far away from the frightening dangers that lurked in the darkness. 

But that was his responsibility now. He had sworn to protect the people he cared about, and he would live up to that promise, no matter the cost. 

 

In the dead of winter came the worst attack yet. 

It was bitter, bitter cold when the fears screams were heard. Whatever patrols had been in the area at the time had already been slaughtered by the time Captain Kozmotis and his group arrived. 

It was mayhem. There had to be dozens of Fearlings swarming through the streets. They'd come without warning, and now they were everywhere, clawing their way into the homes of terrified citizens and pouncing on anyone who found themselves without the safety of a place to hide. 

Nightlight stared at the horror, frozen. It was not until he felt the Captain's hand grip his shoulder that he found the presence of mind to draw his sword. 

"Stay by me, both of you!" came the Captain's order. Both Nightlight and his fellow novice gave stiff nods and did as told, lifting their swords with trembling arms. 

It was not long before other soldiers began to appear, their swords drawn and ready to strike. A few of them managed to fell some of the monsters, but only before being overtaken themselves. They fell to the ground, screaming, swarmed by twisted black shapes. Some of the more adept swordsmen were able to fight nimbly, ducking out of the way just before long skeletal arms could wrap around them. 

Things escalated quickly. Very soon many of the Fearlings had abandoned their efforts of breaking into houses and turned their sights on the soldiers who stood out in the open. With their adversaries growing steadily in number, Nightlight noticed considerable deterioration on the Captain's part. His shoulders were slumping, his limbs trembled, and his face was losing color, taut with the effort to stay focused despite the pain. 

Nightlight felt something awful growing in the pit of his stomach. At this rate, Kozmotis would collapse at any moment, and when that happened he'd be completely defenseless. He'd die. Or worse. 

Spurred on by his worry, Nightlight moved closer, trying to muster the courage to urge his mentor to go somewhere safe. But just as he reached for him, Nightlight felt something ram into him, knocking him to the ground. To his absolute horror, he found himself staring into a set of ghostly white eyes. His body stiffened; he was paralyzed, helpless. The Fearling paused only to drink in a rush of fear before opening it's jaws wide, like a serpent. Nightlight closed his eyes as terror washed over him, bracing for the end.

Then he heard a wet crunch, followed by a thud; he felt the fear ebbing away, and when he opened his eyes again he saw the Captain leaning over him, his sword dirtied by Fearling blood. 

"Are you alright?" he panted.

Nightlight nodded, breathless and unable to speak. His body was still shaking. The Captain helped him to his feet, but only to collapse himself once Nightlight was standing again. 

Nightlight started to panic. The Captain was down, and they were amidst a swarm of Fearlings. In an act of desperation he draped the man's arm over his shoulder, using all his strength to drag his mentor behind the nearest building. 

This was it. They were done for. Nightlight could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, because this was the end. They would die tonight and there was nothing he or anyone could do about it. 

Nightlight squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palms together as if in prayer. 

_Please please please please please…. ___

__They needed help._ _

__Unfortunately it seemed help wasn't coming._ _

__Nightlight realized he had two options. He could stay here and wallow in hopelessness until the Fearlings found them, or he could go out and fight. There wasn't much time to think about it, but in the end, the decision was easy._ _

__He would fight._ _

__Because he had to._ _

__Because he'd promised to._ _

__Nightlight gave him mentor one last look before taking off into the fray, sparing no opportunity for the man to protest (if he was even still conscious)._ _

__It only a few minutes things seemed to have gone from bad to worse. The Fearlings continued to grow in number, drawn by the panic and fear that had overwhelmed the city. Once again a great deal of them had turned on the citizens, smashing windows and tearing down doors. Most fled for their lives, but there were still a brave few who fought back._ _

__One of these brave few was a young man. Nighlight thought he recognized him. He was a baker, and his wife had recently given birth to their first child. No doubt this was what gave him the courage to fight, and he did so, almost madly. He'd lit a torch for himself and was now waving it about. Amazingly, it did wonders at warding off the Fearlings. Nightlight realized that it made a great deal of sense. The Fearlings were creatures of darkness who abhorred the light; it was only natural that they should abhor fire as well._ _

__Others must have picked up on this, as they too were now lighting torches with with to defend their homes. For a brief moment Nightlight felt hope surge through him. Maybe they could still win. Maybe they had a chance!_ _

__And then it all fell apart._ _

__One of the torch-wielding citizens had let down their guard, and in that split second a Fearling pounced on them from behind. The torch went flying, landing setting fire to one of the nearby houses. That was all it took. In an instant the fire had flared into a blaze. It spread with terrifying speed, crawling across the thatched rooftops and painting the sky with a sickly orange glow. And while the smoldering firelight worked wonders at chasing off the Fearlings, it was a small victory. Where one foe had fallen, an even greater foe had risen, and this would could not be slain by sword._ _

__Panic spread as quickly as the flames did. People were pouring into the streets, bringing with them their families and whatever belongings they could gather in their arms._ _

__There were screams. Nightlight heard the cries of one woman whose child had been unable to escape before the flames had blocked the way out. It was a stab in the heart, and NIghtlight couldn't bear it. He rushed to the woman and crouched by her as she knelt weeping on the cobblestones._ _

__"Which one! Which house!" He demanded._ _

__The woman was almost too distract to speak._ _

__"Th-there!" She shrieked, lifting a trembling finger, "My d-daughter is in there!"_ _

__Nightlight stood, taking it all in. The home he was now looking at was almost completely engulfed. It was a two story house, wedged in between two others with only a small alley way on either side. The front door was wide open, but Nightlight could see only flames there._ _

__Thinking on his feet, Nightlight darted into the alley way to the left. As expected, he saw a small window, just wide enough for a person to fit through. There were vines on the side of the house, grown thick from years of neglect. Little did they know, but whomever had failed to clip those vines may very well have saved a life tonight._ _

__Nightlight had never been more grateful to be a good climber. He moved quickly up the wall, pausing only when he felt the vines might snap under his weight. They never did, thankfully, and he reached the window soon enough. As it was winter, the window was closed, but that was nothing he couldn't handle. Like all soldiers he had a small dagger hidden in his boot, just in case. With some careful maneuvering he managed to pull it free. Using the blind end of the handle, he smashed on of the four panes and slip his arm through. He winced as one of the shards sliced him, but it was only a small wound, easy to ignore. One the latch had been flipped, he pulled his arm free and the window was flung open._ _

__Nightlight found himself in a small bedroom, probably the child rooms if the toys scattered on the floor were any indication. Nightlight looked around frantically, but there was no sign of the child._ _

__"Hello!" he called, eyes already burning from the heat. "Little Girl!"_ _

__He heart the wine of hinds and looked to see a wardrobe in the corner. The door had cracked open and he could see a tiny face looking through._ _

__The child!_ _

__He was there in an instant, flinging the doors apart and scooping the girl up into his arms. She was tiny, about Seraphina's age, clutching a small stuffed kitten._ _

__"Don't worry," he said, soothingly as possible, "I've got you. You're going to be just fine."_ _

__The girl nodded and then hid her tear streaked face in the crook of his neck, pudgy arms squeezing the stuffed animal for support._ _

__Nightlight made a dash for the window, but before he could reach it, a section of the roof caved in, effectively blocking their exit._ _

__Well…that certainly wasn't good._ _

__Nightlight felt his chest tightening, but he tried not to panic. If he panicked, it was all over._ _

__He looked around, taking deep, calming breaths and spotting a door. That would have to do._ _

__He dashed out into the hall way, choking a bit on the smokey haze that filled this section of the house._ _

__Then he saw the stairs, but as soon as he reached them he realized they were blocked._ _

__He was shaking now. The little girl gave a choked sob._ _

__There had to be another way. There was _always_ another way. _ _

__He remembered seeing the alley way on the other side of the house. There must have been a window there too!_ _

__But how could he get there?_ _

__Everywhere he looked he saw nothing but fire._ _

__Fire and smoke, and oh god it was getting hard to breath._ _

__It was bright, and hot._ _

__His eyes were burning._ _

__He couldn't see._ _

___No way out._ He thought. _No way out.__ _

__Nightlight could feel his knees giving out under him._ _

__That was when the roof caved in._ _


End file.
